LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of 
CAUPOftNU 

SAN  DIEGO 


Op 


BY 


MARY  E.   GRIFFIN 


CHICAGO 

THE   BLAKELY   PRINTING   COMPANY 
1905 


Copyright,  1905,  by 
MARY    E.  GRIFFIN 


To  Her  who  was  the 
Teacher  and  Guide  of  Child 
hood  and  Girlhood,  the 
best    beloved    Friend  and   the 
Inspiration  of  Womanhood, 

I  offer  these  simple  flowers  that 

I  have  gathered  along  the  busy 

roads    of    life,   and    woven 

into  a  Garland  of  Song. 

THE  AUTHOR 


ONE  YEAR  AGO. 

The  wreath   of  song  I   bring,   Beloved, 

Is  twined  with  lowly  flowers, 
But  all  were  gathered,  fresh  and  sweet, 

In  Love's  immortal  bowers. 
And  nestling  close  to  every  bud 

Are  benisons  from  me, 
As  pure  as  sheen  of  morning  dew 

On  blossom-sprinkled  lea. 

O,  chain  of  love  that  ever  clasped 

My  brother's  heart  to  mine, 
Through  days  of  calm  and  days  of  storm, 

Through  shade  and  fair  sunshine, 
A  year  ago,  this  sunny  May, 

Another  link  you  found, 
Strong  and  enduring  as  the  first, 

And  three,  not  two,  it  bound. 

My  sister!     'Tis  a  holy  name 

I  gave  thee  on  that  day, 
Replete  with  music  as  the  birds 

That  carol  through  the  May. 
For  his  dear  sake  I  loved  thee  then, 

But  now  'tis  for  thy  own, 
The  portals  to  Love's  inner  room 

Are  widely  open  thrown. 


10  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Spring's  promises  are  all  fulfilled 

When  May  bids  earth  rejoice, 
And  Nature  chimes  in  sweet  accord 

With  her  entrancing  voice. 
The  buds  that  ope,  the  birds  that  sing-, 

Breathe  out,  "The  Summer  day" 
With  its  rich  hoard  of  precious  stores 

Will  follow  beauteous  May. 

O  well  Beloved !    Life's  days  to  you 

Forever  be  the  May! 
With  hope  and  peace  and  trusting  love 

The  flowers  along  the  way! 
And  let  those  blossoms  speak  of  lands 

Beyond  the  changing  skies, 
Where  hope  is  lost  in  endless  peace 

And  love  in  Paradise ! 

Full  well  I  know,  my  precious  ones, 

Those  lines  but  ill  reveal 
The  sister's  heart,  so  fondly  true 

To  you  in  woe  or  weal. 
But  to  thy  care,  O  Virgin  Queen, 

My  dear  ones  I  commend ! 
Guide,  bless,  and  love  them  evermore! 

From  everv  ill   defend ! 


G  ARLAN  D     OF    S  O  N  G  11 


SNOWFLAKES. 

The  snow  came  down  in  the  loveliest  forms, 

On  the  baby's  coat  of  red ; 
He  smiled  as  he  grasped,  but  his  sobs  broke  forth- 

As  his  beautiful  "stars"  lay  dead. 

We  grasp  at  the  joys  that  are  flying  by, 

While  we  revel  within  their  light, 
But  the  tears  flow  fast  when  they  disappear 

In  the  gloom  of  a  starless  night. 

But  once  they  were  ours,  and  I  do  not  think 

Tis  truth  that  the  poet  sings : 
That  a  "sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is 

Remembering  happier  things." 

I  know  that  a  grateful  strain  pervades 

The  song  of  my  life  to-day, 
For  the  joys  and  the  love  that  sent  their  rays 

From  the  skies  of  my  varied  way. 


THE    SCULPTOR. 

Hast  thou  ever  gazed  on  the  sculptor 
As  he  worked  at  the  huge  rough  block  ? 

Hast  thou  seen  how  he  struck  and  chiseled 
Hard,  deep,  through  the  marble  rock  ? 

Now  here  and  now  there  he  touches 
With  a  skill  that  is  sharp  and  true, 


12  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


Till  at  last  in  its  marvelous  beauty 
'Tis  standing  most  fair  to  view. 

Like  the  block,  O  Heavenly  Sculptor, 
We  lie  'neath  Thine  eyes  of  love ! 

Wilt  Thou  form  us  into  the  statues 
That  will  stand  in  the  niches  above? 

Ah !    not  like  the    silent    marble 

Will  we  lie  'neath  the  touch  of  pain, 

But  will  shrink  and  quiver  in  anguish 
While  the  blows   fall  down  like  rain ! 

Though  well  we  know,  O  Master ! 

That  'tis  only  by  suffering's  hand 
That  we're  cut  and  carved  and  chiseled, 

Made  perfect  for  Beulah  Land ! 

O  help  us  to  pray,  dear  Savior, 

With  thy  great,  grand  Saint  of  yore  :- 
"Here  cut,  here  burn,  O  Jesus ! 
But  spare  us  when  life  is  o'er!" 


SACRED  HEART. 

When  the  conflict  rages  fast 

'Twixt  the  powers  of  grace  and  sin, 
And  despite  our  efforts   strong, 

Evil  forces  seem  to  win, 

Sacred  Heart,  O  help  us! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  13 


When  the  air  is  redolent 

With  the  fragrant  joys  of  life, 

And  we  drift  far  off  from  thee, 
Farther  e'en  than  in  the  strife, 
Sacred  Heart,  O  help  us ! 

When  the  shades  of  sorrow  fall, 

And  we  grope  with  tear-dimmed  sight, 

Help  us  find  Thee  in  the  dark, 

Help  us  love  Thee  though  Thou  smite, 
Sacred  Heart,  O  help  us ! 

When  all  labor  seems  in  vain, 
Ceaseless  prayer  is  still  denied, 

Help  us  love  Thee  even  then, 
Heart  of  Jesus  crucified, 

Sacred  Heart,  O  help  us ! 

Some  day,  battles,  sorrows,  joys, 
Labor,  all,  will  have  an  end, 

Then  when  Death  the  curtain  drops, 
Be  our  stay,  our  tender  friend, 
Sacred  Heart,  O  help  us ! 


WINONA. 

(To  Sister  M.  B.) 

Quaffing  again  to  deepest  depths 

The   cup   of  joy  untold! 
Living  once  more  the  halcyon  hours, 

The  precious  days  of  old! 


14  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Meeting  again  in  love's  warm  clasp 

The  hands  of  faithful  friends! 
Listening  once  more  to  old-time  tales 

While  "Home's"  sky  o'er  me  bends ! 

O  flowery  paths  and  shady  groves, 

Each  leaf  seems  whispering  to  my  soul 

Of  peace,  of  tenderness  and  love, 

As  backward  turns  dear  Mem'ry's  scroll ! 

0  never  was  there  spot  so  fair, 
O'er  all  the  lovely  lands  of  earth, 

As  thou  to  me,  enchanted  groves, 

Where  came  the  grace  of  "second  birth !" 

1  stand  within  the  hallowed  walls 
Where  Faith's  grand  blessing  came  to  me, 

And  O  the  rapture  of  it  all 

Is  only  known,  my  God,  to  Thee ! 

I  walk  along  "God's  acre"  still, 

To  waft  a  prayer  and  drop  the  tear, 

For  friends  asleep  in  Christ;  to  sense, 
So  far  away !  to  Faith,  so  near ! 

The  consecrated  hands  beloved, 

That  touch  my  own  these  summer  days, 
Are  opening  doors  to  w.here  the  sun 

Of  joy  sends  out  the  purest  rays ! 
Ah,  nevermore  those  gates  will  close, 

Nor  that  bright  sunlight  fail  to  gleam, 
For  Memory's  hands  will  fold  them  back, 

And  capture  every  golden  beam ! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  15 


I  bless  Thee,  O  my  Spouse  beloved! 

For  this  pure  joy  vouchsafed  to  me! 
It  adds   so  many  golden   links 

In  Love's  fair  chain  that  binds  to  Thee ! 
And  what,  I  ask,  must  be  the  depth, 

The  wondrous  wealth  of  Heaven's  bliss, 
When  "Home  again !"  with  friends  beloved, 

Begets  a  rapture  like  to  this ! 


ARCHBISHOP    FEEHAN. 

Now  sweetly  sleep !    The  way  was  long, 
The  road  was  ofttimes  steep. 

'Twas  weary  work  to  climb  the  hill, 
Now  sweetly,  sweetly  sleep ! 

To  be  God's  faithful  servant   is 

No  easy  task.     To  wear 
His  purple  and  His  ring  oft  means 

His  heavy  cross  to  share. 

All  secretly  thy  noble  heart 

Bled   'neath   the   shafts  of  pain ; 

The  "Soldier  of  the  King"  must  face 
The   battles'   fiery  rain. 

To  be  the  Father,  Guide  and  Friend, 
Means  troubled  days  and  years ; 

To  be  the  Shepherd  of  the  Flock 
Brings  bitter  doubt  and  fears. 


16  GARLANDOFSONG 


And  them  for  whom  the  requiems  toll 
Wast  all  of  these.  Now  rest, 

For  when  the  Master  came  He  found 
Thee  watching.  Thou  are  blest ! 

O  may  the  Shepherd  sent  to  guard 
The  stricken,  mourning  fold, 

Within  the  gates  find  Love  and  Peace, 
With  shining  wings  unrolled ! 


'Tor  the  New  has  charms  which  the  Old  has  not, 
And  the  Stranger's  face  makes  the  Friend's  forgot. 


Along  the  shining  beach  one  day 

I  found  this  tinted  shell, 
And  placed  it  here  'mid  treasures  rare 

That  matched  its  beauty  well. 
Yet,  lift  it  up.     'Twill  sing  for  thee 

A  sad.  a  moaning  strain  : — 
'Tis  longing  for  the  dear  old  sea, 

With  yearnings  deep  as  vain. 

A  blossom  blue  that  bent  above 

A  sparkling  sun-kissed  brook, 
I  bore  away  and  thought  'twould  bloom 

With  roses  in  this  nook. 
The  frail  head  drooped,  the  azure  eyes 

Were  closed ;  the  roses'  gleam 
Could  not  replace  in  violet's  heart 

The  cool,  clear  woodland  stream. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  17 


O,  poet  with  the  silvery  tongue ! 

'Tis  false,  that  note  of  thine ! 
It  sends  a  harsh,  discordant  ring 

All  through  the  flowing  line ! 
The  stranger's  orbs  ne'er  sparkled  so 

They  dimmed  a  dear  one's  eyes, 
And  never  stars  shone  half  so  bright 

As  those  in  homeland  skies ! 

No  voices  wake  a  sweeter  strain 

Than  tones  that  won  us  first! 
Strange  hands  may  hold  a  brimming  cup, 

We  cannot  slake  our  thirst 
Altho'  'tis  filled  with  friendship's  wine, 

For  O,  we  long  the  while, 
To  drink  the  nectar  flowing  from 

A  dearer  touch  and  smile ! 


For  the  Old  has  charms  which  the  Nezv  has  not. 
And  no  Stranger's  face  makes  the  Friend's  forgot. 


IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  PINES. 

Twas  thus   you   headed   words   of  love 

That  flew  to  me  to-day, 
From  far-off  northern  lake-girt  lands, 

Beside  the   wind-swept  bay. 

I  prayed,  while  drinking  from  the  joy 
Through  all  the  flowing  lines — 

"No  heavier  shadows  may  life  bring, 
Than  'shadows  of  the  pines !'  " 


18  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


For  if,  like  them,  the  shadows  fall 
When  love  and  hope  are  near, 

They'll  only  make  the  sunshine  glow 
With  radiance  far  more  clear. 

So  thus  I  prayed  as  streams  of  joy 
Poured  from  those  flowing  lines — 

"Life's  shades  to  you  no  darker  be, 
Than  'shadows  of  the  pines !' ' 


A   PORTRAIT. 

The  dear  old  home  holds  spirits  bright, 
And   forms   and   faces   fair; 

And  eyes  aglow  with  happy  light, 
And  snowy  brows  are  there. 

But  sweetest  soul  abides  in  her 
Whose  portrait  now  I  paint; 

A  worded   picture,  where   the   lines 
Are  all  too  dim  and  faint, 

To  do  her  justice;  eyes  of  blue, 
And    locks    of  nut-brown    hair, 

Soft  cheeks  where  rose  and  lily  bloom, 
An  earnest  brow  and  fair. 

A  soul  where  purity  is  shrined, 

A  heart  as  true  as  steel, 
Where  you  or  I  could  safely  trust 

Our  deepest  woe  or  weal. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  19 


A  mother's  pride,  a  father's  joy, 
The  one  we  love  so  well, 

God  bless  our  household  angel  bright, 
Our  winsome,  blithesome  Nell ! 


SUNSHINE. 

Little  Sunshine  !     Little   Sunshine ! 

All   too  soon  you  stole  away, 
Slipped  from  out  the  hearts  that  loved  you, 

Went  to  greet  Eternal  Day. 
Far  upon  the  "Mount  of  Beauty," 

Where  the  "clean  of  hand"  abide, 
Little  Sunshine  !    Only  Jesus 

Could  have  wooed  you  from  our  side ! 

Only  He  who,ce  tender  message 

Through  the  shadowy  aisles  of  time 
Greet  our  ears  like  music  mellow 

Of  an  old  cathedral  chime — 
"Suffer   little  children  near  Me! 

Let  them  gather  at  My  knee! 
For  of  such  is  my  pure  Kingdom ! 

Suffer  them  to  come  to  Me !" 

Little    Sunshine !  thou    art   happy ! 

Arms  divine  encompass  thee ! 
Joys   celestial  flood  thy   spirit, 

From  earth's  fetters  ever  free! 


20  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

But  O  Thou  who  took  our  darling, 
Pity,  strengthen,   help,   we   pray, 

For  the  heavy  shades  enfold  us 
Since  our  Sunshine  went  away! 

Little  Sunshine!     Father's  darling! 

Mother's  household  angel  sweet! 
Let  thy  rays  of  heavenly  beauty 

Beam  around  our  faltering  feet! 
May  we  walk  in  God's  sweet  favor 

Till  we  meet  thee,   Sunshine  blest, 
In  the  little   children's   Kingdom — 

Home  of  love  and  peace  and  rest! 


GROWING  OLD. 

Thrice  blessed  peace,  that  hovers  o'er 

The  life  that's  growing  old, 
With  oars  at  rest  and  ebbing  tide 

Shining  in  sunset  gold! 
The  fuel  of  youth's  strong  desires 

Is  burned  to  ashes  white, 
But  all  undimmed  the  lamp  of  love 

Throws  'round  its  lambent  light ! 

O  peaceful  days !    I  love  you  well, 

Like  vesper  hymns  you  seem ! 
Low  and  subdued  your  tones  breathe  'round 

Till  but  of  God  I  dream! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  21 


The  mem'ries  of  the  past  return, 

But  restful  days,  I'd  give 
Thee  not,  e'en  though  'twere  mine  again 

Youth's  buoyant  hours  to  live ! 

For  looking  back  I'm  glad  they're  o'er, 

The  battles  fierce  and  long 
Each  day  saw  waged  with  world  and  self, 

Self  with  its  passions  strong! 
Glad  that  I've  learned  the  worth  of  earth, 

Glad  for  the  good  I've  done ! 
Glad  for  the  sorrow  that  sanctified, 

Glad  for  the  love  I've  won ! 

Aye,  glad  for  the  love  still  glowing  warm 

For  true,  tried  friends  of  yore, 
Some  with  me  still,  some  passed  beyond 

To  Heaven's  shining  shore ! 
For  love  that  never  "groweth  old," 

Though  eye  is  dim,  and  form 
Is  bent,  but  lives  in  vigorous  youth 

In  hours  of  peace  and  storm ! 

O  vesper  hours  of  twilight  dreams, 

So  fraught  with  happy  rest ! 
Homeward,  dear  God,  I  drift  to  Thee, 

To  anchor  with  the  Blest ! 


22  G  ARLAN  D     OF    SON  G 


FIFTY   YEARS   WEDDED. 

The  soft  May  winds  are  blowing, 
While  blossoms  pink  and  white 

Are  dropping  on  earth's   bosom, 
In  floods  of  rosy  light. 

The  songsters'  notes  are  ringing, 
The  world  seems  filled  with  life ; 

With  all  spring's  rarest  promise, 
The  very  air  is  rife. 

'Twas  in  life's  radiant  May-time 
You  plighted  troth  and  love ; 

The  way  was  fair  before  you, 
The  skies  were  clear  above. 

Our  Mother  Mary's  blessing 
Fell   o'er  your   hearts  that  day, 

And  ever  since  you've  held  it 
Along  life's  varied  way ! 

Dear  hearts,   you've  been  together 
Through  many,   many  years! 

You've  known  the  lights  and  shadows, 
The   sunny   smiles   and  tears ! 

And  now  the  golden  sunset 

Enfolds  you  in  its  glow, 
To  find  you  leal  and  loyal 

As  you  were  long  ago ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  23 


I  pray  that  God's  own  blessings 
May   hover  o'er   your  way, 

And  guide  and  keep  your  loved  ones 
All    through    life's  checkered    day. 

And  may  He  grant  our  wishes 
For  happiest  future  years, 

Until  the  "Diamond  Jubilee" 
To  your  glad  eyes  appears ! 


ADIEU. 

When  Summer  donned  her  fairest  robes 

And  walked  the  earth  a  queen, 
Whose  every  tone  awoke  the  flowers, 

And  wooed  the  sunlight's  sheen! 
When  skies  were  blue  as  sapphires  clear, 

The  air  with  music  rife, 
In  joy  she  stood  'neath  homeland  skies, 

For  there  were  Love  and  Life ! 

Ah !    Death  will  never  dare  invade 

When  "Father"  stands  beside 
To    shield    and    save  his  "little    girl," 

His  one  ewe  lamb,  his  pride ! 
While    "husband"   pleads,   while   children   pray. 

While  life  is  in  its  prime, 
O,  dark-winged  angel  hovering  near, 

Fly  on  !     Not  yet  thy  time ! 


24  GARLAND     OF    S  ON  G 


Not  yet !     Not  yet !     Go  take  the  old, 

The  hearts  tired  out  with  strife! 
Not  her  who  stands  with  beaming  eyes 

On  sunny  meads  of  life ! 
O  let  her  stay!    For  earth  is  sweet, 

And  Love  is  strong  and  true ! 
Her  arms  are  filled  with  treasures  rich 

That  ne'er  were  meant  for  you ! 


But  he  folded  his  pinions,  that  Angel  so  dark, 

And  he  clasped  to  his  bosom  his  prize, 
Then   away  through   the   ether   his   burden   he  bore. 

Away  through  the  summer-day  skies ! 
As  he  flew  with  his  treasure  he  sang  a  sweet  song, 

And  its  music  still  rings  in  the  air! 
Let  us  gather  its  notes  as  he  passes  along, 

And  weave  them  in  melody  fair! 


"Come  with  me!     I'll  bear  you  on 

To  the  Heart  of  Mary's  Son ! 
Life  is  sweet,  but  death  is  bliss, 

Give  to  life  your  parting  kiss ! 
Close  your  eyes  in  slumber  deep ! 

Ope  them  where  no  shadows  creep ! 
Clasp  your  loved  in  fond  embrace, 

Soon  you'll  meet  them  face  to  face, 
In  the  land  where  no  good-bye 

Wakes  the  shadows  in  the  sky !" 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  25 


Adieu  !    Adieu !     We'll  whisper  low 

No  saddening  farewell ! 
For  thou  art  quaffing  deep  of  bliss 

Of  which  no  tongue  can  tell ! 
Adieu !    We  would  not  wake  thee  now 

From  slumber  calm  and  deep, 
Thou'rt  safe  with  Him,  O  well-beloved! 

In  His  strong  arm,  O  sleep ! 


STRENGTH. 

Upon  a  hill,  not  far  away, 

There  stands  a  tree  alone; 
Around  it  many  storms  have  raged 

And  many  sunbeams  shone. 

But  still  it  towers  far  above, 

In  strength  and  might  serene, 
Ne'er  bending  toward  the  trees  that  deck 

The  sward  below  with  green. 

How  oft  I've  gazed  and  deemed  it  like 

Some  soul  on  Duty's  hill : — 
Strong  in  the  strength  that  comes  from  God 

To  those  who  do  His  will. 

Not  caring  for  the  storms  of  scorn, 

Nor  for  approval's  sun, 
But  satisfied  if  still  he  hears 

The  Master's  sweet  "Well  done!" 


26  G  ARLAN  D     O  F    S  O  N  G 

Oh,  if  our  weak  and  restless  souls 

Striving-  for  sordid  aims, 
So  happy  when  the  world  approves, 

So  downcast  when  it  blames — 

Could  climb  the  heights  and  spend  in  toil 
For  God,  our  strength  and  skill, 

Full  soon  would  fall  the  soothing  peace 
That  breathes  o'er  Duty's  hill. 


ON  THE  HILL. 

Up  on  the  hill  where  the  breezes  waft 

All  their  treasures  of  sweets  to  me, 
Scent  from  the  clover  in  meadows  wide, 

Scent  from  the  flower-besprinkled  lea ; 
Under  the  trees  where  the  robin  sings 

Clearest  of  notes  this  Summer  day, 
Here  on  the  hill  is  peace  profound, 

Driving  all  thoughts  of  care  away. 

Sailing  across  an  azure  sea, 

Billowy  clouds  as  white  as  the  snows 
Bend  o'er  the  grasses  and  golden  grain, 

Bowing  to  every  breeze  that  blows. 
Down  in  the  meadows  the  soft-eyed  kine 

Patiently  lie  in  the  clover  sweet, 
Butterflies  flit  from  flower  to  flower 

Sipping  their  wine  in  this  calm  retreat. 


GARLANDOFSONG  27 


Beautiful  world !  it  seems  to-day, 

Sorrow  and  care  ne'er  lived  in  thee ! 
Here  is  naught  but  a  restful  calm, 

Here  on  the  hills  'neath  the  old  oak  tree. 
Life,  if  a  cloudless  Summer  day 

Perfect  as  this  you  e'er  could  be, 
Soon   we'd  forget  the    Home  above, 

Finding  our  all  of  bliss  in  thee ! 


THE  RAIN. 

The  sun  his  warmest  rays  sends  forth 
From  skies  of  cloudless  blue, 

And  not  a  sound  breaks  o'er  the  calm 
That  reigns  the  whole  air  through. 

The  streamlet  flowing  o'er  the  stones 

Forgets  its  music  sweet; 
The  birds  are  still,  the  grasses  brown, 

The  flowers  droop  'neath  the  heat. 


But  now,  list  the  whispering  all  through  the  trees ! 
'Tis  a  voice  that  we  welcome,  the  voice  of  the  breeze ! 
He  sings  of  the  coming  of  soft,  cooling  rain, 
And  the  birds  and  the  blossoms  rejoice  at  his  strain. 

He  marshals  his  forces,  the  clouds  o'er  the  skies ! 
He  calls  out  his  orders  as  onward  he  flies ! 
Down,  down  at  the  voice  of  the  chief  fall  the  showers, 
And  welcome  !  sing  songsters  and  brooklet  and  flowers  ! 


28  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


How  oft  when  we  droop  in  the  heat  of  the  day, 
Worn  out  by  the  trials  we  meet  on  life's  way, 
A  message  is  wafted  from  lips  that  we  prize, 
And  strengthened  and  cheered  for  the  combat,  we  rise 


BLUE   EYES. 

O  eyes,  as  blue  as  Summer  skies ! 

I'll  search  your  depths  to-night, 
And  read  the  language  written  there 

Beneath  your  azure  light ! 

Across  your  surface  ripple  waves 

Of  mirth,  but  far  below 
Are  rays  that  wake  to  life,  when  thought 

And  feeling  warmly  glow ! 

The  glance  of  earnest  thought  bespeaks 
The  strong,  the  active  mind ! 

The  frank,  clear  gaze,  the  soul  beneath 
Where  purity  is  shrined ! 

And  look  of  fondest  trust  that  glows 
When  friendship  is  the  theme, 

O  who  would  not  be  glad  to  wake 
Within  those  orbs  love's  gleam ! 

For  then,  within  your  sunny  deep, 

Are  rays  I  know  and  love, 
That  say,  "The  heart  I  yield  my  own, 

Is  true  as  skies  above!" 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  29 


O  life !  if  you  the  darkened  side 

Reveal  to  orbs  of  blue, 
The  tears  that  flow  will  only  make 

Them  shine  with  softer  hue ! 

For  azure  eyes,  the  rays  therein 
Thus  write  in  words  of  light, — 

"While  love  is  mine,  it  matters  not 
If  skies  be  dark  or  bright, 

For  love  and  trust  will  make  my  day, 
Their  loss, — my  starless  night !" 


"IF." 

"If"  sorrow  with  her  folded  wings 

Ne'er  brooded  o'er  life's  hours, 
How  many  buds  of  love  and  peace, 

Would  ripen  not  to  flowers ! 
For  sweetest  blossoms  often  seek 

The  lonely  shaded  ways, 
And  upward  waft  their  odors  rich, 

When  shine  no  sunny  rays. 

"If"  we  e'er  walked  the  narrow  path 

In  our  own  strength  secure, 
Vain-glory,  love  of  fame  or  friends, 

Ne'er  tainting  motives  pure ; 
No  helping  hands  of  ours  would  stretch 

To  brothers  weak  as  we, 
While  still  we  prayed  with  lowly  hearts, 

"May  God  our  helper  be!" 


30  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

"If"  we  should  lose  the  trusting  love 

That  stronger  grows  each  day, 
How  much  of  hope,  of  joy,  of  strength, 

Would  steal  from  life  away ! 
O  while  the  years  with  ruthless  hands, 

Bear  much  we  prize  from  sight, 
Father  of  all !  leave  in  our  hearts, 

Love's  angel  form  of  light ! 


THE  LIGHT  OF  HOME. 

How  densely  dark  the  shadows  fall, 

As  night  creeps  on  apace ! 
And  snow  and  sleet  together  whirl 

In  fierce  tempestuous  race! 
But  what  brook  I  the  tempest  wild 

As  crowded  streets  I  roam ! 
Each  onward  step  brings  nearer  still 

The  radiant  light  of  home. 

Blow,  bitter  winds !   Drop,  if  you  will, 

Your  clinging  robes  of  snow ! 
The  burning,  beaming  fires  at  home 

Will  melt  it  in  their  glow ! 
Fall,  shadows,  fall !    Your  deepest  gloom 

Will  vanish  in  the  light 
That  streams  in  clear,  undying  rays 

From  'round  the  hearthstone  bright. 


GARLANDOFSONG  31 


Home !  and  I  greet  the  noble  wife 

Whose  large,  dark,  trusting  eyes 
E'er  mirror  forth  the  loyal  love 

That  in  her  heart-depths  lies ! 
Home!    Home!  and  "Papa!  Papa!" 

Rings  in  childish  tones  of  glee ! 
I  clasp  her  close,  my  brown-eyed  girl, 

My  bonnie  maiden  wee ! 

Fierce  storms  outside !  sweet  peace  within ! 

O  light  of  home !     I  praise 
The  God  whose  loving  care  awoke 

Thy  joy-inspiring  rays ! 


A  WISH. 

O  would  that   in  those   eyes  of  thine, 

My  own  might  fondly  gaze, 
To  see  if  still  within  them  shine 

The   light  of   olden  days ! 

To  watch   the   earnest   feeling  rise, 
And  wake  the  fires  that  sleep, 

Or  see  the  laugh  send  dancing  beams 
Across   the  sparkling   deep ! 

But  it  may  be  the  world's  cold  touch 
Has  changed  those  eyes  of  brown, 

And    made  the   depths    so  deep  and    dark 
My  own  could  not  pierce  down. 


32  GARLAND    OF    SONG 

Yet  I  can  ne'er  believe  them  so, 

But    dream    they'll  ever  be 
Lit  with  the  old  unchanging1  light 

For  me,  at  least,   for  me! 

Dear  Angels !  guard  those  well-loved  eyes 

Until  at  last  I  gaze 
Within  their   depths   and  wake   again 

The  light  of  happier  days ! 


WRINKLES. 

They  are  seen  on  the  brow  of  the  youthful, 

They  come  with  the  footsteps  of  age ! 
They  are  pencilled  by  suffering's  fingers, 

Or  drawn  by  the  thoughts  of  the  sage ! 
They  appear  with  the  teardrops  of  sorrow, 

Or  come  where  the  laughter-light  glows, 
But  the  wrinkles  that  tell  me  a  story, 

Are  those  that  some  mother's  face  shows. 

With  eyes  that  are  reverent  I  watch  them, 

Those  lines  drawn  by  love  or  by  care ! 
They  whisper  of  nights  that  were  sleepless 

Of  hopes  that  were  blighted ;  of  prayer. 
They  tell  of  the  dear  faces  hidden 

Away   'neath  the   mantle  of   death, 
Or  speak  of  the  blossom  she  cherished 

That  was  blasted  by  sin's  icy  breath ! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  33 


O,   lines  that   reveal   a  life's   story! 

I'm  sure  you  will  plead  at  the  Throne, 
That   mercy  for   weakness  or   erring 

Be  unto  the  mother-hearts  shown ! 


THE  ANGELUS  BELLS. 

Borne  on  the  air  of  the  Spring-time  morn 

Floats  the  music  of  the  bells, 
And  our  spirits  drift  to  the  "Long  Ago" 

Whose  tidings  sweet  it  tells. 
"Hail  full  of  grace !"  the  chimings  sing, 

"Hail  full  of  grace !"  our  souls  repeat ! 
Ring  softly,  slowly,  bells  of  love, 

The  Angel's  greeting  meet! 

Ring  soft  and  low  as  the  balmy  wind 

That  breathes  among  the  trees, 
For  the  One  you  greet  was  gentle  as 

The  faintest  Summer  breeze. 
Ring  loud  and  strong  as  the  fiercest  gale 

That  blows  in  Winter  wild, 
For  the  victory  won  o'er  the  tyrant  sin 

By  the  Mother  and  her  Child. 

"Hail  full  of  grace !"  Beloved  of  God, 

Tis  all  our  hearts  can  say! 
"Hail  full  of  grace !"  the  Lord  is  thine, 

And  thou  art  blessed  for  aye ! 

3 


34  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Hail  Lily-Cup !  o'erbrimming  with 

The  sweetest  of  God's  love ! 
Hail  Rose  of  Light !    Hail  Violet  pure 

In  the  chosen  bower  above. 

Cheer  us  when  clouds  hang  dark  above, 

And  guard  us  safe  through  sunny  ways, 
For  dangers  hide  in  flowery  glens, 

And  Death  may  lurk  in  brightest  rays ; 
Ring  on,  sweet  bells !  for  she  is  blest 

Forevermore   to   see   God's   face ! 
Chime  on !  chime  on !  in  dulcet  tones, 

"Hail  full  of  grace !    Hail  full  of  grace  !" 


THE  QUESTION. 

"Would  you  like  to  die  while  the  streamlet  of  youth 

Is  gliding  along   its   sunniest  way, 
And  your  boat  floats  on  by  the  flowery  shore 

While  the  balmiest  breezes  o'er  it  play? 
When  the  bark  of  Friendship  is  sailing  beside, 

O'erladen  with  treasures  the  heart-depths  prize, 
When  Fame  can  be  won  and  good  can  be  done, 

WTculd  you  wish  Death's  hand  to  darken  the  skies  ?" 
We   list  to   the  promise  the  brooklet  gives, 

We  look  aloft  on  the  azure  sky, 
We  clasp  our  beloved  to  our  trembling  hearts, 

"No!  no!  not  in  youth  is  the  time  to  die!" 


GARLAND    OF    SO  N  G  35 


"Would  you  like  to  die,"  says  a  thrilling  voice, 

"To  sail  to  my  Home  while  the  heart  is  pure  ? 
To  go  while  your  loved  ones  are  still  your  own 

And  await  them  there  in  your  bliss  secure? 
Shall  I  send  my  sleep  e'er  you've  tasted  all 

The  embittering  draughts  of  a  false  world's  fame, 
Will  you  come  and  learn  the  grand  love  of  the  heart 

That  broke  for  you  on  the  Cross  of  shame?" 
We  look  on  the  world  with  its  loveless  lives, 

Its  blighted  hopes  and  severed  ties ; 
We  think  on  the  land  where  joy  e'er  lives, 

And  the  bliss  of  loving  never  dies. 
We  turn  to  our  Lord  with  outstretched  arms 

"O  let  us  not  stay  till  Age  draws  nigh ! 
Take  us  home !  Take  us  home !  e'er  the  bloom  is  gone, 

For  youth,  fresh  youth  is  the  time  to  die !" 


TO  MY  MOTHER. 

Out  from  the  merry,  laughing  throng, 

Where  pleasure  reigns  supreme, 
I  steal   away,   my  own  beloved, 

Of  thee  and   home  to   dream. 
Here  'neath  the  beaming,  starlit  skies, 

Here   in  the  calm  of  night, 
My  soul  forgets  the  scene  within, 

To  wing  to  thee  its  flight. 

I  miss  thee,  mother!     By  thy  side 
Once  more    I  long   to   be, 

To  nestle  near  the  heart  that  throbs 
With   constant  love  for  me. 


36  G  ARLAN  D     O  F    S  ON  G 


Ring,  loudest  song-  and  merriest  jest, 
You  fail  to  still  my  longing  cry, 

Though  hearts  beside  yield  me  their  love, 
I  miss  thee,  mother !  still  I  sigh. 

O  love,  the  truest,  kindest,  best 

My  life  shall   ever   know ! 
The  charm  of  living  would  be  lost, 

If  thou  wert  not  below ! 
God  keep  thee,  dear  one !  soon  again 

Within  thy  arms  I'll  rest! 
And  in  my  treasured  home  once  more 

With   sweet  content  be  blest! 


THE   CONVENT  CHAPEL. 

Sweet  home  of  our  Jesus !  how  peaceful  you  seem 

On  this  happy,  this  beautiful   day ! 
Here  kneeling  within  thee,  our  spirits  can  dream 

Of  naught  but  the  Home  far  away ! 
The  lilies  are  swaying  beneath  thy  dear  eyes, 

The  roses  are  blushing,  so  near  Thee  they  lie ; 
The  lights  are  aglow  like  the  stars  in  the  skies, 

Happy  flowers !  Happy  rays !  in  His  honor  to  die ! 

Our   poor   restless  natures  before   Him   are  still, 
The  world  and  its  dreams  of  ambition  forgot ! 

There's  a  song  in  our  souls  like  the  song  of  the  rill, 
The  music  of  peace  that  the  earth  knoweth  not. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  37 


We  dread  to  go  out  'mid  the  rude,  clashing  sounds 
Of  a  world  every  busy  with  things  of  a  time, 

We  dread  the  temptations  in  which  it  abounds 
May  steal  from  our  heart-strings  this  sweet  angel- 
chime  ! 

Dear,  dear  little  chapel !  we  lingered  beside 

To  ponder  the  love  of  the  One  hidden  there, 
Till  we  longed  in  His  pure,  peaceful  dwelling  to  hide 

Till  life  with  its  dangers  was  over  fore'er! 
Ah,  yes !  'twould  be  bliss  to  sit  at  His  Feet 

And   drink   in  the   beauty   that   beamed    from   His 

Heart, 
As  He  spoke  to  our  souls  in  His  accents  sweet : 

"Beloved,  thou  hast  chosen  the  better  part!" 

But  duty  is  calling,  and  Jesus  we  go, 

For  Thou  wilt  come  with  us  as  Savior  and  Guide ; 
The  billows  may  threaten,  the  tempest  may  blow, 

What  matter,  dear  Pilot,  if  Thou  art  beside? 
Come  dangers  and  trials,  our  hearts  know  not  fear ! 

In    the  wide,  busy    world,    a    sweet    chapel  we've 

found, 
'Tis  the  wound  in  the  Side,  'tis  the  Love  shining  near, 

Be  it  sadness  or  gladness  that's   reigning  around! 


38  GARLAND     OF    SO  NG 


REV.  PATRICK  J.   MULCONRY,    S.   J. 

O  Death !  full  well  we  know  to-day, 

The  shining  mark  is  dear 
To  thee,  when  through  our  tears  we  gaze 

Upon  thy  victim  here! 

On  him,  the  strong,  the  brave,  the  true, 

God's  priest,  His  chosen  one, 
Laid  low  while  still  his  eyes  were  turned 

Towards  life's  clear,  rising  sun! 

Laid  low,  while  still  his  priestly  hands 

Were  gathering  fruits  for  God ! 
Ah,  splendid  type  of  strength !  'tis  hard 

To  give  thee  to  the  sod! 

O  well  beloved!    Thou  ever  made 

Thyself  be  "all  to  all," 
Like  Paul  of  old,  that  souls  might  turn 

Responsive  to  thy  call! 

That  silvery  tongue  whose  eloquence 

Enchanted  all  who  heard, 
Bore,  on  the  music  of  its  notes, 

God's  grand  enduring  Word ! 

O  St.  Ignatius'  loyal  son ! 

For  God  thy  strength  was  spent! 
Thou  hast  returned,  a  hundred-fold, 

The  talents  that  He  lent. 


GARLANDOFSONG  39 


In  many  a  soul  that  thou  hast  saved, 

Thy  name  is  shrined  to-day ; 
They'll  twine  it  round  with  love's  fair  flowers, 

And  bless  thee  while  they  pray! 

We'll  bear  thee  on  to  sweetest  rest, 

Ignatius'  soldier  brave ! 
For  death,  no  victory  is  thine, 

Nor  sting  in  thee,  O  grave ! 


THE  DYING  SUMMER. 

Summer,  Summer,  clothed  in  beauty! 

Loath  we  are  to  see  you  fly ! 
Bearing  far  from  sight  the  radiance 

That  you  poured  o'er  earth  and  sky! 

You  so  rich  in  perfumes  precious, 
Floating  on  the  Zephyr's  wing, 

Sweet  in  grand  entrancing  music, 
Making  hill  and  forest  ring ! 

Breathe  around  your  tones  melodious, 
Let  your  balmy  breezes  blow, 

Memory  will  retain  the  blessings, 
That  you  scatter  as  you  go ! 

Still  again  we  hope  to  greet  you 
When  the  wintry  days  are  o'er, 

Smiling  with  a  rarer  beauty 
Than  you  ever  knew  before ! 


40  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

As  we  trust  to  meet  the  dear  ones 
Who  have  glided  from  our  sight, 

In  the  Summer  lands  eternal 
In  love's  paradise  of  light! 


LOVE. 

There's  a  beautiful  light  in  this  world  below 

That  illumines  its  gloomiest  days, 
And  the  darker  the  night  is  the  fairer  its  glow, 

The  brighter  its  life-giving  rays. 

If  the  shadows  of  sorrow  obscure  the  soul's  sky, 
Let  this  beacon  of  love  shine  abroad, 

And  the  clouds  of  adversity  lighten  and  fly 
Near  this  glorious  gift  of  our  God ! 

O  fond,  human  love,  so  strong  and  so  pure, 

No  darkness  thy  glory  can  fade, 
And  no  power  on  the  earth  can  thy  beauty  allure 

From  the  heart  where  thy  dwelling  is  made. 

For  Love  is  a  blessing  the  Father  has  sent 
To  cheer  us,  to  guide  and  to  save, 

To  beam  on  our  pathway  till  life's  day  is  spent, 
And  but  die  in  the  night  of  the  grave. 

Yes,  Death  ends  it  all !  O  seek  higher,  clear  soul, 
For  the  love  that  will  burn  on  fore'er, 

And  find  it  where  years  of  Eternity  roll 
In  that  beautiful  Home  over  there ! 


41 


A  FRAGMENT. 

The  leaves  so  russet,  red  and  golden  brown, 
On  every  wind  are  sending  "good-byes"  down. 

The  grasses  fading  'neath  the  Autumn  sky 
Are  whispering  as  they  wither  fast,  "good-bye !" 

In  music  of  the  birds  as  south  they  fly 

To  sunny  climes,  is  ringing  forth,  "good-bye!" 

And  I,  to  scenes  most  fair  and  dear  hearts  true, 
Am  breathing  not  "good-bye"  but  fond  "adieu !" 


LIZZIE. 

"A  Happy  New  Year !"  Lizzie  dear, 

With  all   my  heart  I  say ! 
"A  Happy  New  Year !"  though  you  lie 

In  Death's   deep   sleep  to-day. 
For  what  is  life,  with  all  its  bliss, 

Compared  to  endless  rest? 
The    joys    of    earth    are  fleeting    ones, 
The  peace  of  God  is  best! 

Thy  mother's  love  encompassed  thee, 
Her  arms  were  round  thee  twined, 

And  where  but  in  thy  God  couldst  thou 
A  kinder  refuge  find? 


42  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


And   when   upon  thy   cheek,   dear   friend, 
Her   farewell   kiss    was   pressed, 

God  grant  thou  slept  to  waken  in 
The  home  of  angels  blest! 

And  so,  dear  Lizzie,  sleeping  now, 

With   all  our  hearts  we  say : 
"A  Happy  New  Year"  with  thy  God ! 

A  happy,  endless  day! 
No  night  to  dim  its  beauty  rare, 

No  clouds  to  veil  its  skies, 
No  pain,  no  loss,  no  sighs,  no  tears — 

Just  bliss  in  Paradise ! 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS. 

A  golden  glory  fills  the  earth 

From  June's  most  perfect  day, 
While  grandma  sits  with  folded  hands 

And  dreams  the  hours  away. 
The  sunlight's  slender  arrowy  beams 

Steal  in  through  ivied  shade 
To  fall  athwart  her  wrinkled  brow, 

And  face  of  little  maid. 

A  winsome  maid  with  locks  of  jet, 
With  dancing,  laughing  eyes 

As  darkly  blue  as  mountain  streams 
That  mirror  forth  the  skies. 


CARL  AND    OF    SONG  43 


Her  arms  are  full  of  gifts  she  bore 
From  orchards  fair  and  wide, 

And  apple  blossoms  rich  with  sweets 
She  drops  on  every  side. 

The  dear  old  eyes  bedimmed  by  age 

Ope  on  the  scented  mass ; 
Rest  on  the  upturned  love-lit  face 

Of  merry  little  lass; 
Pressing  a  fond,  a  yearning  kiss 

Upon  the  youthful  brow, 
Her  tears  flow  fast — "O  grandma,  dear ! 

Why  are  you  weeping  now?" 

"Ah,  darling  mine!    Those  rosy  buds 

Have  opened  memory's  door, 
While  forms  and  faces  dearly  loved, 

Troop  out  from  days  of  yore. 
I  see  again  my  childhood's  home, 

The  cot  near  shaded  ways, 
Where  filled  with  all  that  makes  life  sweet 

Were  passed  youth's  merry  days ! 

'At  last  there  came  a  day  when  June's 

Rare  odors  filled  the  breeze ; 
I  pledged  my  troth  to  him  I  loved 

Beneath  the  apple  trees. 
And  when  a  bride  I  bade  good-bye 

To  scenes  where  youth  was  spent, 
Across  the  hills  the  breezes  bore 

The  apple  blossoms'   scent. 


44  G  ARLAN  D     OF    S  ON  G 

"  Tis  far  across  the  sea,  that  home 

Where  Shannon's  waters  lave, 
And  grandpa  lies  in  southern  soil 

Within  a  soldier's  grave ! 
Yet  this  old  heart  each  memory  holds 

Within  a  sacred  shrine, — 
But  I  must  cease,  e'er  flow  your  tears ; 

Come  kiss  me,  darling  mine !" 

"I  love  you,  darling  grandma,  mine! 

Just  take  me  in  your  lap, 
And  you  and  I  and  apple  blooms 

Will  have  a  long,  long  nap." 

They  rest  amid  the  blossoms  pink, — 

One's  course   is  but  begun, 
The  other  drawing  near  the  goal, — 

Life's  race  is  almost  won ! 
The  sunbeams  dart  o'er  locks  of  jet 

And  those  of  snowy  white ; 
On  tears  and  smiles,  on  shade  and  sun, 

On  eve  and  morning  light ! 


JANUARY. 

Clad  in  robes  of  snowy  white, 
Decked  with  gems  of  gleaming  light, 
Blossoms  'neath  my  garments  lie, 
Hushed  in  sleep;  their  lullaby 


GARLANDOFSONG  45 


Winds  that  ever  moan  and  sigh, 
Sweeping  past  the  snow-filled  sky. 
Earthly  artists  rival  not 
Scenes  I  paint  in  every  spot. 
Voices  ring  in  laughter  loud 
From  the  skaters'  merry  crowd. 
Eyes  of  youth  grow  bright  with  glee 
When  my  whirling  flakes  they  see. 
I'm  the  Frost  King's  champion  bold, 
January,  clear  and  cold ! 


BY  THE  FIRESIDE. 

The  firelight's  flickering  shadows  play 

Around  the  dim-lit  room; 
Their  slender  fingers  reach  and  clasp 

Each  corner  hid  in  gloom. 
And  lo !  they  ope  the  door  that  hides 

The  past  away  from  sight, 
While  forms  and  faces  loved  and  lost 

Come  trooping  out  to-night ! 

I  lie  and  gaze  with  half-closed  eyes, 

And  list  as  in  a  dream 
To  tones  that  died  in  silence  deep 

While  gliding  o'er  death's  stream ! 
I  hear  again  the  merry  laugh 

Ring  out  from  friends  of  yore, 
And  eyes  aglow  with  love  and  truth 

Look  into  mine  once  more! 


46  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


The  firelight  dies.     Its  fingers  touch 

No  more  the  dim-lit  room ! 
The  dear  dream-faces  fade  away 

And  vanish  into  gloom! 
A  wave  of  longing  for  our  dead 

Is  sweeping  o'er  the  soul, 
But  outstretched  hands  grasp  empty  air, 

And  shadows  'round  us  roll ! 


OUR  DEAREST  ONE. 

We  travel  o'er  the  busy  roads  of  earth, 

Where  hand  clasps  hand,  and  speech  meets  speech ; 

But  O,  how  varied  are  the  lives  we  meet ! 

How  different  are  the  hearts,  the  minds,  the  souls ! 

Some  only  touch  us  as  they  pass  along, 

But  never  reach  beyond  the  inner  doors 

That  guard  the  sacred  rooms  of  hidden  self, 

While  some  sweet,  pure  and  holy  lives  steal  in 

With  all  the  gentle  influence  of  the  dew 

Upon  the  flowers,  and  soften  and  revive 

And  strengthen  struggling  selves. 

'Twas  thus  that  thou, 

O  well  beloved!  from  couch  of  pain  sent  forth 
The  might  of  love  and  held  each  one  of  us 
Beneath  its  sway!     No  harsh,  unkindly  word 
Could  live  near  thee,  nor  selfish  envious  thought 
Would  dare  to  clothe  itself  in  garb  of  speech, 
Or,  if  it  did,  those  sad,  sweet  eyes  of  thine 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  47 


Would  make  it  shrink,  abashed  into  the  darkness ! 
Our  cares,  our  doubts,  our  griefs,  were  near  thee  laid, 
And  when  thy  tender  love  breathed  over  them, 
They  seemed  no  more. 

O  pain-racked,  fragile  frame ! 
Thou  wert  the  temple  of  a  mighty  soul, 
Upon  whose  altars  ever  burned  the  fires 
Of  sacrifice,  of  patience,  purity, 

And  strength  !    Oh,  Death !   thou  art  a  powerful  king, 
But  thou  canst  not  destroy  those  rays  of  love, 
For  memory  like  a  vestal  virgin  pure, 
Alive,  for  aye,  will  keep  them !     O  well-beloved ! 
Thou  art  not  dead !    Thy  influence  e'er  will  breathe 
O'er  words  and  thoughts  and  deeds,  and  we  will  be 
Because  of  it  the  gentler,  nobler,  purer ! 

O  white,  strong  soul,  more  fit  for  cloistered  home 
Than  busy  world,  we  beg  thy  prayers  may  stretch 
Like  a  bright,  golden  chain,  from  thee  to  earth ! 
O  let  it  twine  around  our  mother's  lonely  life, 
So  she  may  read  upon  each  shining  link, 
"God  gave  !  God  took  !  O  may  His  will  be  done ! 
A  little  while,  and  I  shall  fold  her  close 
Where  mother-love  is  victor  over  Death !" 


48  GARLAND    OF    SO  N  G 


IN  MEMORIAM. 

Dear  heart,  I  cannot  think  that  thou 

Hast  bade  us  all  "Good  night !" 
Hast  drawn  the  curtains  of  thy  couch 

While  still  the  day  shone  bright. 

And  yet  I  hear  the  "Requiem  Bells" 

Toll  over  thee,  asleep ! 
A  while  ago  the  sun  was  high, 

Now  fall  the  shadows  deep ! 

Like  Roman  old,  I  mourn  the  friend, 

"Faithful  and  just  to  me ;" 
O  loyal  heart !    Death  stole  a  gem 

Of  rarest  worth,  in  thee ! 

Dear  friend,  the  path  was  ofttimes  dark, 

The  stones  beneath  were  sharp, 
And  minor,  wailing,  yearning  chords 

Rang  out  from  life's  great  harp ; 

But  through  it  all  thy  patient  soul 
Strode  on  with  strength  from  God ; 

And  now  when  life  was  sweet  and  fair, 
They've  laid  thee  'neath  the  sod ! 

Thou  sleepest,  but  Death  cannot  still 

The  influence  of  thy  life, — 
The  spring  where  deepest  draughts  we'll  quaff 

In  hours  of  pain  or  strife. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  49 


And  o'er  the  "bairns"  whose  tender  love 

In  life,  in  death,  was  thine, 
The  memory  of  thy  noble  soul 

In  lambent  light  will  shine ! 

May  "God  be  with  thee,"  friend  of  mine, 
Till  breaks  the  morning  light, 

Where  nevermore  upon  our  ears 

Will  fall  Death's  sad  "Good  Night !" 


THE  ASSUMPTION,  1904. 

No  darksome  tomb  may  veil  from  sight, 
The  mother  of  her  risen  God ! 

The  temple  where  the  Christ-child  dwelt 
Must  never  crumble  'neath  the  sod ! 

So  angels  in  their  reverent  arms 
Upbore  thee  to  thy  God  and  Son ; 

Enthroned  thee  at  His  sacred  side, 
Our  Queen,  while  endless  ages  run ! 

When  erring  mortals  fear  to  plead 
For  pity  from  the  Heavenly  King, 

They  kneel  to  thee,  O  tender  one, 
And  like  the  little  children  cling 

To  thee,  their  Mother!  Surely  earth 
Would  be  a  long  and  bitter  way, 

If  when  the  thorns  and  brambles  tore, 
We  dared  not  whisper,  "Mary,  pray !" 


50  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


O  Mother  Mary,  Virgin  pure, 
The  beacon  true  o'er  every  way ! 

We  cling  to  thee  in  fondest  trust, 
In  life,  in  death,  O  for  us  pray! 


THE   GOLDEN  JUBILEE   OF  THE   IMMACU 
LATE  CONCEPTION  DEC.  8,  1904. 

'Tis  a  glorious,  golden  sunlight, 

That  is  flooding  earth's  abode, 
Bathing  in  its  streams  of  beauty, 

All  that  lies  along  its  road, 
Immaculate ! 

Mother  Church  reached  forth  to  grasp  it 
With  her  powerful,  loving  hands, 

And  those  sunbeams,  flowing  from  her, 
Stream  to  near  and  far  off  lands, 
Immaculate ! 

All  her  children  throng  together 

In  the  splendor  of  those  rays, 
While  throughout  the  earth  are  ringing 

Carols  of  their  loving  praise, 
Immaculate ! 

Without  sin  conceived,  O  Mary 

Pray  for  us,  O  Mother,  pray! 
Jubilate!    hearts  are  singing! 

Jubilate  !  while  we  say 
Immaculate ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  51 


THE  OLD  YEAR. 

The  old  year's  going!    The  sobbing  wind 

Wails  out  its  requiem  moan; 
An  old  man  sits  by  the  dying  fire 

In  his  mansion  home  alone ! 
Watching  the  embers'  fitful  glow, 

The  darkly  falling  shades, 
Lower  his  head  droops  on  his  breast, 

Faster  the  firelight  fades ! 

"  'Tis  near !    'Tis  near !  the  fair  New  Year ! 

But  I  welcome  it  not !"  he  cries, 
"And  gladly  I'd  lay  down  the  burden  now, 

As  the  Old  Year's  echo  dies ! 
For  I'm  weary  of  living  with  all  its  din, 

Weary  of  sin  and  pain, 
Weary  of  winning  but  Dead  Sea  fruits, 

Of  toiling  for  shadows  vain ! 
Take  me,  Old  Year,  to  your  peaceful  grave, 

Where  they've  borne  the  friends  of  my  life ! 
Take  me  to  rest,  for  I'm  weary  now 

Of  my  long,  long  day  of  strife !" 

"Dying !  Dying !"  the  breezes  sob ! 

"Dead !"  now  floats  on  the  wave ! 
The  shadows  grow  darker,  the  firelight  dim, 

The  Old  Year  rests  in  its  grave ! 
The  silence  grows  deeper;   a  peaceful  light 

Plays  on  the  aged  face ! 
The  Old  Year's  dead,  and  he  sleepeth,  too, 

The  last  of  an  honored  race ! 


52  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

"Farewell  to  the  Old  !    Hail,  hail  to  the  New  ! 

The  New  of  joy  and  mirth ! 
How  can  men  bear  to  die,  and  leave 

Their  beautiful  Mother  Earth ! 
Fair  shining  world  with  its  wealth  and  fame, 

Its  noble  hearts  and  true ! 
Bright,  glorious  life  whose  rainbow  tints 

Just  burst  upon  my  view ! 
Your  battles  I  fear  not,  for  I  will  be 

The  victor  on  every  field ! 
Long  may  I  live  to  taste  the  sweets 

Your  stores  of  bounty  yield !" 
Thus  speaks  the  youth  of  the  sunny  brow 

As  he  greets  the  New  Year  entering  now ! 


Sing  on,  dear  boy,  'tis  ever  thus : 

Age  glad  to  go ;  Youth  glad  to  stay ! 
May  the  world  so  trusted,  ne'er  deceive 

Nor  stones  of  failure  mark  the  way ! 
Like  you,  we'll  bid  the  Old— "Godspeed !" 

It  bears  with  it  a  varied  load, 
While  with  deep  trust  in  God,  we'll  turn 

To  greet  the  New  Year  on  the  road. 


ONLY. 

'Twas  "only"  a  baby  that  Death  bore  afar, 

'Twas  "only"  a  baby  they  say, 
But  "Mother"  bends  o'er  it  with  heart  that  will  ache 

Full  many  a  sorrowful  day ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  53 


Tis  "only"  a  beggar  with  wistful  eyes, 
There  standing  and  pleading  for  bread, 

And  yet  'tis  the  image  of  Him  who  had  once 
No  rest  for  His  tired,  sacred  Head ! 

'Twas  "only"  a  smile  that  a  treasured  one  gave, 

When  weary  and  faint  grew  the  soul, 
But   it  broke   on   the   darkness  like   sunlight  through 
clouds 

And  strengthened  we  sped  to  the  goal ! 

'Twas  "only"  a  word  from  the  lips  that  we  love, 
Falling  soft  as  the  dew  on  the  flowers, 

But  'twill  shine  evermore  with  its  own  chastened  light, 
And  illumine  Earth's  gloomiest  hours ! 

O,  'tis  "onlies"  that  make  up  the  music  of  life, 
Some  loud,  and  some  soft,  and  some  sad, 

And  some  that  float  upward  in  strains  so  divine, 
The  Angels,  God's  Angels,  are  glad ! 


REV.  JOSEPH  M.  FEELY,  C.  M.,  D.  D. 

O  richly  dowered,  noble,  childlike  soul, 
A  garden  fair  wert  thou  in  sight  of  Him 
Who  made  thee  beautiful !    Who  filled  thee  with 
The  flowers  of  innocence,  of  God-like  humbleness, 
So  like  the  blossoms  pure  that  bloom  with'in 
The  hearts  of  little  ones !    O  radiant  mind, 
Aglow  with  intellect's  all-shining  gems, 


54  G  ARLAN  D     0  F    SON  G 

That  ne'er  were  vaunted !     Hidden  till  the  Master 
Told  thee  bring  them  forth,  that  their  white  light 
Might  stream  upon  the  way,  and  lead  to  Him 
The  souls  of  others  !    O  son  of  blest  Saint  Vincent ! 
The  angels  looked  and  smiled!     The  spotless  Lamb 
Craved  thee  within  His  train,  and  lo,  the  call 
That  won  thee  from  our  midst ! 

O  priestly  brother, 

Weeping  now  above  thy  well  beloved ! 
O  grieving  mother-love  'neath  Southern  skies ! 
The  music  of  my  verse  may  soothe !     It  sings 
Of  him,  the  pure,  the  bright,  the  saintly  one ! 
With  God,  for  God,  your  treasure  lived !     In  God 
He  died !     That  love,  divine  and  measureless, 
Holds  him  for  ever!    O  the  little  step 
From  you  to  him,  if  you  but  think,  how  short 
Is  time !    How  long  the  happy,  glad  eternity  ! 


SOULS  IN  EXILE. 

Far  away  in  lonely  exile 

From  the  Savior  that  we  love, 

Waft  we  up  our  cry  for  mercy 
To  the  pitying  Heart  above — 
Miserere  Domine ! 

Waiting  for  the  Queen  of  Heaven, 
Bearing  pardon  from  on  high, 

Till  she  leads  us  'mid  the  ransomed, 
Where  no  more  we'll  sadly  sigh — 
Miserere  Domine ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  55 


Friends  whose  heartstrings  twined  around  us, 
While  on  earth  we  walked  beside, 

Prayer  from  you  will  break  our  fetters, 
Let  it  float  on  love's  strong  tide — 
Miserere  Domine ! 

When  the  prison  gates  are  opened, 

And  we  bask  in  Heaven's  rays, 
Then  will  rise  for  thee  our  pleadings, 

Mingled  with  our  song  of  praise — 
Gloria,  tibi,  Domine ! 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS. 

Over  the  snow  of  the  Northland  sky, 
Over  the   South,  where  the  song  birds  fly, 
Over  the  sad  and  over  the  glad, 
Over  the  good  and  over  the  bad, 

The  Christmas  bells  are  ringing! 

Ringing  aloud  the  same  old  song, 
From  Bethlehem's  manger  swelling  along, 
"Glory  to  God  this  Christmas  morn! 
Christ  the  King  of  Kings  is  born  !" 

Thus  Christmas  bells  are  ringing! 

Born  for  the  soul  that's  lily-white, 
Born  for  the  heart  as  black  as  night, 
Born  for  the  haughty  and  the  meek, 
Born  for  the  mighty  and  the  weak! 
So  Christmas  bells  are  ringing ! 


56  GARLANDOFSONG 

O  Babe  Divine,  of  beauty  rare, 
Beside  the  Virgin  Mother  fair, 
With  Joseph,  spouse  of  Mary's  heart, 
Give  us  this  day  the  better  part, 

While  Christmas  bells  are  ring-ing. 

The  perfect  Love  "that  casts  out  fear," 
The  Hope  that  ever  shineth  clear, 
The  Faith  that  moves  Doubt's  mountains  high, 
These  are  the  gifts  for  which  we  sigh, 
While  Christmas  bells  are  ringing. 

Over  the  snows  from  Northland  sky, 
Over  the  South  where  song  birds  fly, 
Over  the  lowly  and  high  of  earth, 
Is  sung  the  hymn  of  the  Savior's  birth, 
While  Christmas  bells  are  ringing. 


A  SMILE. 

A  smile  is  a  trifling  thing,  I  know, 

Yet  one  we  love  to  see, 
For  cheery  sunbeams   'round   it  gleam, 

And  shadows  from  it  flee. 

What  though    beneath    the  surface    lies 
A   weight   of   wearying   care, 

Smile  on  the  world,  despite  it  all; 
Few  wish  your  load  to  share. 


GARLAND    OF    SON  G  57 


Come  out  and  learn  in  Nature's  school 

A  lesson  that  she'll  teach; 
Her  voice  will   ring  from  distant  skies 

Yet  not  beyond  your  reach. 

Though  many  dark  storm-bearing  clouds 
Have  rolled  athwart  her  face, 

See  how  the  smiling  stars  and  moon 
Veil   from  you   every  trace. 

And  watch  her  during  heaviest  showers 

Still  beam  on  you  the  while, 
Until  at  last  through  all  her  tears 

You  see  the  rainbow  smile. 

Then  meet  the  world  with  smiles,  dear  friend, 

But  in  your  woe  and  care, 
To  Him  who  pities,  cheers  and  guides, 

Fly,  on  the   wings  of  prayer! 


NEW  YEAR'S  WISHES. 

May  every  heart  that  now  is  sad, 
Within  the  coming  year  be  glad ! 
May  every  soul  that's  steeped  in  sin, 
Let  Angels  of  Repentance  in ! 
May  heart's  desires  be  granted  thee, 
If  to  thy  God  they  pleasing  be ! 
May  Love  and  Trust  along  thy  way 
The  evergreens  of  beauty  lay ! 


58  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


May  this  New  Year  the  happiest  be 
Of  all  that  have  been  granted  thee ! 
And  may  the  future  hold  in  store 
Of  happy  ones  full  many  more! 


IN  THE  WOODS. 

Come  into  the  woods  and  the  fragrance  inhale 

Of  blossoms,  and  list  to  the  birds; 
And  gaze  on  the  sky,  smiling  blue  overhead, 

They're  all  singing  "songs  without  words." 

Aye,  "songs  without  words,"  and  yet  sweeter  by  far 

Than  any  that  human  lips  sing, 

While  they're  teaching  our  hearts  in  the  clearest  of 
ways 

As  upward  their  melodies  wing. 

The   flowers,   as  they   bloom    on   their   green  grassy 
couch, 

Are  whispering1:  "Be  pure  in  thy  life, 
Exhale  the  rich  perfume  of  kind,  gentle  deeds, 

Be  truthful  and  strong  in  the  strife." 

The  nests  built  so  high  by  the  songsters  last  year 
Have  been  whirled  by  the  tempests  to  earth, 

But  new  homes  are  theirs  and  no  minor  strains 
Can  be  heard  in  their  warblings  of  mirth. 


GARLAND     OF    SON  G  59 


The  storm  clouds  have  sailed  o'er  that  firmament  blue, 

Yet  see,  it  now  smileth  serene : — 
Resignation  and  faith,  O  clear  skies  and  dear  birds ! 

Are  the  virtues  you  teach  us,  I  ween. 

Then  come  to  the  woods  where  the  air  is  all  balm, 
And  list  to  the  songs  without  words; 

They  are  swelling  on  high  from  the  trees  and  the  sky, 
From  the  flowers  and  the  swift  flying  birds. 


"HE   WENT   ABOUT   DOING    GOOD." 

(Dedicated   to   "The    Professor."*) 

Healing  the  sick,  the  suffering  ones, 

The   "Great  Physician"  went! 
Day  in,  day  out,  no  rest  for  Him, 

His  loving  skill  was  lent! 
In  "doing  good"  He  went  about, 

O  grandly  active  life! 
What  more  could  e'en  the  man  God  do, 

Where  pain  and  sin  were  rife? 

And  with  a  skill  God-given,  grand, 

A  "manly  man"   I   see, 
Before  the  magic  of  whose  touch 

Disease  and  suffering  flee ! 
In  "doing  good"  he  goes  about, 

Restoring  health's  rich  glow, 
While  "many  rise  and  call  him  blessed," 

The  poor,   the   high,   the  low ! 


*Dr.  Nicholas  Senn. 


60  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


A  "Great  Physician !"  Title  grand, 

The  grandest  earth  bestows ! 
It  meaneth  fame  and  grateful  love, 

As   "doing  good"  he  goes! 
God  hold  undimmed  the  noble  mind 

That  seems  of  Him  a  part, 
Unweakened  keep  the  skill  sublime, 

And  bless  the  strong,  true  heart ! 


EX-CONGRESSMAN  WILLIAM  F.  MAHONEY. 

When  the  trees  that  are  bent  with  the  storms  of  the 

years 

Fall  prone  in  the  forest,  we  sigh ; 
When    the    saplings  all    rich    with    the    buddings    of 

youth 
Are  struck  by  the  bolt  and  low  lie, 

We  grieve  for  the  promise  of  youth  unfulfilled, 

For  the  beauty,  departed  from  earth, 
For  the  leaves  that  but  partly  unfolded  to  view, 

For  the  buds  that  were  killed  in  their  birth. 

We  gaze  on  thee,  friend,  like  a  tree  in  its  prime, 

Cut  down  in  the  fullness  of  noon, 
On  the  big,  manly  form  in  the  stillness  of  death, 

And  we  whisper,  "It  seemeth  too  soon!" 

Too  soon,  for  thy  life  knew  deep  love  from  the  wife, 
So  sweet  and  so  tender  and  true ; 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  61 


From  the  children  beloved  and  the  sisters  so  dear, 
From  friends  that  each  pathway  e'er  knew. 

Too  soon,  for  Hope's  rainbow  encircled  life's  sky, 
And  the  way  seemed  so  straight  and  so  bright ; 

But  lo !  came  the  turn  in  the  beautiful  road, 
And  their  dear  one  had  vanished  from  sight ! 

But  O,  if  the  Lord  would  reveal  to  the  gaze 

What  lies  past  the  valley  between, 
The  music,  the  glory,  that  ear  hath  not  heard, 

Nor  eye  of  the  human  hath   seen! 

The  tears  would  be  dried,  and  the  grieving  be  stilled, 

The  Cross  would  be  patiently  borne ; 
You'd  give  to  his  mother  the  boy  of  her  heart, 

And  wait  till  the  dawn  of  God's  morn. 


THE   ASSUMPTION    OF   THE    BLESSED 
VIRGIN. 

Moon  of  beauty,  silvery  gem, 
Set  within  the  crown  of  night, 

How  the  splendor  of  the  stars 
Pales  beside  thy  limpid  light! 

Mother  Mary,  radiant  moon, 
Shining  near  the  Sacred  Heart, 

How  the  splendor  of  the  saints 

Pales  near  rays  that  from  thee  dart! 


62  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


Hail,  thou  spotless,  snow-white  soul, 
Even  free  from  Adam's  taint ! 

Of  thy  beauty  marvelous, 

None  can  sing  and  none  can  paint ! 

Darksome  tomb  dare  never  hide 
That  pure  body,  God's  own  shrine ! 

Angels  bore  it  to  the  throne, 
Waiting  near  thy  Son  divine! 


LIFE'S  SUNSET. 

Only  waited  "till  the  shadows 

Were  a  little  longer  grown," 
Till  the  golden  gleams  of  sunset 

All  along  her  way  were  thrown; 
Till  the  harvest  rich  was  ready, 

And  the  ripened  grain  was  bound, 
Then  the  eyes  were  closed  in  slumber, 

In  the  peace  of  God  profound. 

Dear  old  Saint !    I  loved  to  greet  thee 

In  the  vanished  Summer  days, 
Sitting  in  the  shaded  window, 

Looking  out  o'er  "Village"  ways ! 
Loved  to  see  the  smile  of  welcome 

Lighting  up  the  kindly  face, 
While  I  felt  the  soul  beneath  it 

Was  the  temple  of  God's  grace. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  63 


Often  through  those  quiet  fingers 

Slipped  the  Virgin  Mary's  "Beads," 
While  the  "Ave !"  softly  whispered, 

Told  thy  Mother  all  thy  needs! 
Surely  her  dear  arms  twined  'round  thee 

When  Death's  shadows  o'er  thee  fell ! 
Surely  it  was  she  that  bore  thee 

To  the  God  thou  served  so  well ! 

One  by  one  the  dear  old  faces 

Vanish  o'er  the  sunset  hills ; 
Theirs  the  rapture  of  God's  presence, 

Ours  the  hearts  that  sorrow  fills! 
But  we  see  Hope's  star  celestial, 

Shining  in  life's  darkened  sky, 
Whispering  of  the  Land  where  never 

Falls  the  shadow  of  good-bye! 


FEBRUARY. 

I  walk  the  earth  with  softer  tread 

Than  January  bold ! 
I  leave  untouched  the  snowy  veil 

O'er  hill  and  valley  rolled ! 
I  waken  not  the  tender  flowers, 

Nor  buds  asleep  on  trees, 
Though  loud  and  lusty  songs  I  sing 

In  every  passing  breeze ! 


64  GARLAND    O  F    SONG 


SERMON    IN    SONG. 

The   earth  is   bathed  in   moonlight's   waves, 

O'er  which  the  summer  sails, 
And,  with  a  voice  to  music  tuned, 

Breathes  forth  her  varied  tales. 
It  seems  as  if  the  silver  streams 

That  flood  the  perfect  night, 
Could  never  float  a  grief  or  care 

Adown  their  waves  of  light. 

Yet  well  we  know  the  wondrous  moon, 

The  stars  in  far-off  skies, 
The  summer  fair — all  gaze  upon 

Sad  hearts  and  tear-filled  eyes. 
And  still  from  out  their  depths  of  calm 

I  hear,  it  seems  to  me, 
'Cast  all  thy  care  upon  the  Lord, 

For  He  hath  care  of  thee !" 

The  Hand  that  guides  the  glowing  orb 

Through  soundless  depths  of  blue, 
That  holds  it  through  the  ages  vast, 

Within  its  courses  true, 
Will  never  give  a  cross  so  hard 

Thou'lt  not  have  strength  to  bear. 
'Cast  all  thy  care  upon  the  Lord, 

For  He  of  thee  hath  care." 

O  perfect  night !     O  gem  so  clear ! 

Within  the  summer's  crown! 
Along  each  ray  from  yonder  moon 

A  stream  of  peace  floats  down. 


GAR  LAND     OF    SONG  65 


The  wailing  cry  of  sorrow  dies, 
The  doubts  and  worries  flee ; 

The  message  falls :    Cast  cares  on  God, 
For  He  hath  care  of  thee ! 


GLORIA    IN   EXCELSIS! 

Lovely  Queen,  we  kneel  beside  thee 

At  the  crib  of  Infant  King! 
From  our  hearts  we  fondly  greet  thee, 

While  the  Christmas  angels  sing, 
Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo! 

Virgin  purest,  Virgin  fairest, 

Fit  to  be  our  Jesus'  own ! 
Bethlehem's  stable  with  thee  in  it, 

Grander  grows    than   earthly  throne. 
Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo! 

Virgin  purest,  Virgin  fairest, 

Whom    the   centuries  love    and  praise. 
Waft  to  us  a  mother's  blessing, 

As  we  echo  Angels'  lays, 

Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo! 

Bethlehem's  King  will  not  refuse  thee 
Aught  thou  claimest  from  His  Love ; 

Grant,  O  grant,  while  Christmas  carols 
Fly  on  music's  wings  above. 
In  terra,  pax! 


66  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS! 

Merry    Christmas  !     Merry   Christmas  ! 

Hear  it  echo   o'er  the  earth, 
While  the  Yuletide  bells  are  telling 

Of  the   Infant  Savior's  birth ! 

Merry    Christmas  !     Merry  Christmas  ! 

Young  and  old  take  up  the  cry ! 
May  its  music  drown  the  suffering 

Of  each  sorrow's  wailing  sigh ! 

May  all  sinning  die  forever 

While  its  rhythmic  wavelets  float ; 

Hatred,  anger  and  dissension 
Perish  in  each  swelling  note ! 

Merry    Christmas  !     Merry  Christmas ! 

Hear  it  echo,  near  and  far ! 
While  the  hearts  of  men  grow  purer 

'Neath  the    rays   of   Bethlehem's  Star ! 


ST.   VINCENT'S   MARTYRED   CHILDREN. 

In  the  distant  soil  of  China, 

Far  away  from  home  they  love, 
Gathering  in  a  wond'rous  harvest 

For  their  glorious  King  above ! 
Sowing  seeds  that  bud  and  blossom 

In  each  poor  neglected  soul, 
Till  the  fields,  in  matchless  beauty, 

All  around  them  verdant  roll ! 


GARLAND     OF    S  ON  G  67 

Chorus — 

Dear  St.  Vincent's  martyred  children ! 

Blessed  John  Perboyre  and  Francis  Clet ! 
Listen  to  our  hymn  of  pleading 

Floating  o'er  the  air  to-day ! 

Still  the  years  went  rolling,  rolling, 

Down  the  sloping  hill  of  time, 
Till  the  sheaves  were  bound  and  gathered 

In  that  far-off  Asia  clime ! 
Then  the  shades  of  night  were  falling, 

Jesus  bade  His  toilers  rest, 
But  the  homeward  pathway  led  them 

'Neath  the  cross  that  Christ  caressed ! 

Chorus — 

Dear  St.  Vincent,  did  you  greet  them 

When  the  gates  were  opened  wide? 
Did  you  lead  your  martyred  children 

To  the  loving  Savior's  side? 
With  them  plead,  O,  dearest  Father, 

Near  the  Master's  Great  White  Throne, 
If  we  may  not  die  for  Jesus, 

We  may  live  for  Him  alone ! 

Chorus — 

Dear  St.  Vincent's  martyred  children ! 

Blessed  John  Perboyre  and  Francis  Clet ! 
Listen  to  our  hymn  of  pleading 

Floating  o'er  the  air  to-day ! 


68  GARLANDOFSONG 

TO  M.  S. 

It  was  a  long,  long  life,  old  friend, 

And  on  the  winding  way 
You  met  its  sunshine  and  its  storms, 

Its  noon,  its  night,  its  day. 

No  wondrous  deeds  are  standing  out 

Along  the  road  you  trod, 
But  faithfulness  to  duty  shines, 

And  trust  in  man  and  God. 

Your  children,  weeping  o'er  their  dead, 

This  heritage  retain — 
A  life  with  record  ever  clear, 

A  name  without  a  stain. 

The  day  was  long,  yet  night  fell  fast 

Across  its  radiance  clear, 
But  still  the  harvest  was  prepared 

For  Him,  the  Master  dear! 

And  tender,  consecrated  hands 

Were  laid  within  thy  own, 
While  streams  of  grace  from  Mother  Church 

Upon  thy  soul  were  thrown ! 

Tasks  done,  it  seems  hy  far  the  best 

That  life  should  steal  away, 
No  pangs  of  parting  then  are  ours, 

Just  night  to  glide  from  day ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  69 

To  fall  asleep  and  waken  near 

A  God  of  mercy  vast, 
And  list  from  out  His  Sacred  Heart, 

"My  son,  thou'rt  home  at  last!" 


"EGO  TE  ABSOLVO." 

O  love  of  our  Savior  that  ne'er  will  decay ! 

O  mercy  of  Jesus  that  lasteth  for  aye! 
How  grandly  you  burn  in  those  words  full  of  might, 

How  brightly  you  glow  with  an  undying  light 
In   "Ego  te  Absolve!" 

All  stained  with  the  foulness  and  blackness  of  sin 
Come  souls  that  are  anxious  new  lives  to  begin, 

Before  the   Priest,  kneeling,  their  guilt   is  laid  bare, 
And   hearts  deeply    sullied  are   made   brightly  fair 
By  "Ego  te  Absolve !" 

For  the  hand  of  the  Priest  is  uplifted  on  high, 
His  soft-spoken  whisper  upfloats  to  the  sky, 

And  if  sorrow's  clear  waters  will  over  it  flow 
Then  sin,  even  sin  is  made  whiter  than  snow 
By  "Ego  te  Absolvo !" 

Dear  Savior!     We  kneel  full  of  love  at  thy  Feet, 
Thy  sufferings  procured  us  those  graces  so  sweet, 

Thy  blood  for  our  sins  and  our  miseries  shed, 
Is  flowing  each  day  on  the  penitent's  head 
With   "Ego  te  Absolvo!" 


70  GARLAND     OF    S  ON  G 


O,  Jesus,  dear  Jesus !  may  earth  and  may  heaven 
Sing  praises  to  Thee  for  the  power  thou  hast  given ! 

Forever,  forever,  with  love  may  we  glow 

For  Thee,  that  so  much  love  for  us  doth  e'er  show 
In  "Ego  te  Absolve !" 


UNDER  THE  TREES. 

The  summer  wind  on  trembling  leaves 

Is  playing  sweetest  strains, 
And  waving  branches  shadows  fling 

Over  the  grass-edged  lanes. 

The  long,  warm  hours  I  dream  away, 

As  under  the  trees  I  lie, 
And  gaze  on  fleecy,  feathery  clouds, 

So  lazily  floating  by. 

An  hour  like  this,  and  memory  comes 

With  every  peaceful  day, 
That  blossomed  like  the  violets  sweet, 

Along  life's  busy   way. 

One  day  stands  out  from  all  the  rest — 

A  summer  day  like  this, 
When,  not    alone,  beneath    the    trees 

I   drank  in  all   its  bliss. 

Two  sparkling  eyes  of  darkest  blue, 

Two  eyes  of  honest  gray, 
Were  shining  with  the  thoughts  that  came 

And  went  that  summer  day. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  71 


We  talked  of  many,  many  things, 
Or  dreamed  in  silence  there; 

While  I  wove  Fancy's  fairest  web 
Around  that  happy  pair. 

And  is  my  web  destroyed?     Ah,  no! 

Blue   eyes    since   flew  away 
And  nestled  in  a  grand,  strong  soul, 

Whose  windows  are  of  gray. 

Now,  lying  here  beneath  the  trees, 
I  dream  my  dreams  and  pray 

That  life,  for  those  dear  hearts,  may  be 
One   happy   summer  day! 


AN  ALLEGORY. 

Come,  sail  along  with  me,  dear  friends, 

Adown  life's  gentle  tide, 
And  let  us  moor  our  boat  to  rest 

Where  meadows  lie  beside. 

A  harvest  fair  is  blooming  there, 

The  skies  are  blue  and  clear, 
While  from  the  woods  that  skirt  the  edge, 

The  birds'  sweet  strains  we  hear. 

Only  a  few  short  years  ago, 

A  barren  plain  it  lay, 
And  none  who  gazed  e'er  dreamed 

'T would  bud  or  blossom  as  to-day ! 


72  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Only  a  few  short  years,  but  still 

The  days  were  full  of  toil, 
The  nights  of  care !    'Twas  weary  work, 

The  digging  of  the  soil. 

At  first  the  harvest  seemed  so  scant, 

And  heavy  clouds  of  doubt, 
At  earnest  prayer  refused  to  let 

The  bow  of  promise  out. 

And  still  they  toiled,  those  harvesters, 
Their  eyes  and  hearts  on  high ; 

Hands  on  the  plough,  hopes  fixed  on  God, 
For  him  to  do  or  die! 

And  now  the  lovely  meadow  lies 

In  all  its  beauty  here, 
While  songs  of  promise  fill  the  air, 

And  charm  the  listening  ear! 

The  meadow  fair  is  our  loved  school, 
Our  priests,  our  sisters  dear, 

The  toilers  in  the  verdant  field ; 
The  harvest?     It  is  here. 

We'll  give  the  world  the  grain  that  feeds 

The  honest  Christian  life, 
That  nerves  the  soul  to  fight  its  foes 

And  win  in  prayerful  strife. 

God  bless  the  Presentation  School ! 
We're  proud  to  call  it  ours ! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  73 


God  keep  the  ones  who  give  to  it 
The  fullness  of  their  powers. 

God  bless  our  people,  stanch  and  true, 

And  O,  the  most  of  all, 
We  beg  that  on  our  Pastor  loved 

God's  benedictions  fall ! 


GOING  BACK  TO  SCHOOL. 

A  gentle,  winsome  little  maid, 

In  dainty  garments  fashioned  fair, 

Receives  Love's  kiss,  and  starts  to  school, 
Its  wondrous  mysteries  to  share. 

The  way  to  her  is  filled  with  joy, 
For  "Sister"  takes  the  little  hand, 

To  lead  her  on  by  easy  steps, 

Along  the  big,  strange  Knowledge  Land. 

The  days,  the  weeks,  the  months,  the  years, 
Speed  on  with  swiftly  flying  feet, 

And  now  our  little  girl  of  old 

Stands  "where  the  brook  and  river  meet !" 

Again  she  wends  her  way  to  school, 
The  bluest  sky  still  smiles  above, 

While  stars  of  Hope  so  clearly  shine, 
And  air  is  filled  with  songs  of  Love ! 


74  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Dear  girl,  when  those  bright  days  are  o'er, 
And  life  has  summoned  thee  to  school, 

I  wonder  will  thou  know  as  now 
The  tenderness  of  Love's  fond  rule. 

We  do  not  know,  we  may  not  pierce 
The  coming  time  with  aisles  so  dim, 

But  Love  has  placed  thee  in  His  Heart, 
And  trusts  thy  future  years  to  Him ! 
September,  1904. 


EASTER. 

The  wood-flower  peeps  above  the  mold 

And  whispers  to  the  snow, 
"  'Tis  Easter-tide  !    Our  risen  Lord 

Has  bade  me  wake  and  grow !" 

The  stream  throws  off  its  chains  of  ice 

And  sings  its  song  of  glee, 
"  'Tis  Easter-tide !     Our  risen  Lord 

Has  bade  me  to  be  free !" 

The  breezes  sing  to  tender  buds 

Within  their  cradles  deep, 
'  'Tis  Easter-tide !     Our  risen  Lord 

Now  bids  thee  wake  from  sleep !" 

The  birds   that  weave  their  nests,  the  blue 
That  peeps  the  clouds  between; 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  •        75 

The  rain  that  sends  refreshing  drops 
To  newly  wakened  green ; 

All  sing  the  same  glad  song  of  hope, 

All  join  the  prayerful  chime — 
"Our  Lord  has  risen !    Praise  to  Him ! 

It  is  the  Easter  time !'' 

While  still  the  ringing  chorus  pours 

From  Nature's  throbbing  throat, 
From  every  human  heart  we  pray 

May  float  the  answering  note ! 

'Tis  Easter-tide  !    Dear  Risen  Lord, 

May  Virtue's  seeds  take  root 
And  may  the  harvest  yield  to  Thee 

A  hundred-fold  of  fruit! 


THE   HYMN. 

Upon  the  incense-perfumed  air 
The    music    wavelets    float ; 

A  hymn  to  Mother  Mary  pours 
From  many  a  childish  throat : 

'On  this  day,  O,  beautiful  Mother ! 

On  this  day  we  give  thee  our  love ! 
Near  thee,  Madonna,  fondly  we  gather, 

Trusting  thy  gentle  care  to  prove !" 


76  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


The  tears  unbidden  rise  and  fall, 

For  Memory's  rushing  tide 
Has  borne  me  to  a  chapel  sweet, 

From  out  this  temple  wide. 

We  sang  it  thus,  long  years  agone, 

Within  that  chapel  dim, 
'Mid  flowers  and  lights  and  incense,  too, 

Arose  that  self-same  hymn. 

It  rose  from  merry  hearts  that  dreamed 
Earth  knew  not  pain  nor  guile, 

And  if  a  random  tear  e'er  fell 
'Twas  hidden  in  a  smile. 

O,  merry,  trusting,  pure  young  hearts 

Within  that  chapel  dim, 
Did  life's  loud  din  have  power  to  still 

The  memory  of  that  hymn? 

Or  hush  the  voice  of  her  who  stood 

Our  guide  along  the  ways  ? 
'None  knew  thee.  Sister,  but  to  love, 

None  named  thee  but  to  praise !" 

The  grandest  mind,  the  noblest  heart, 

The  life  all  rounded  out ! 
E'en  from  the  grave  she  speaks  to-day 

In  hours  of  grief  and  doubt. 

Back  from  the  Past  we  come !     Bless  God 
And  Mother  Mary  for  that  Past, 

So  sweet,  so  pure,  so  full  of  love! 

Is't  dead  ?  Nay !  not  while  life  doth  last ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  77 


And  as  we  sang  in  days  of  yore 

Our  hearts  sing  now  with  deeper  love : 
"Near  thee,  Madonna,  fondly  we  gather, 
Trusting  thy  gentle  care  to  prove !" 


GOING   HOME. 

I've  traveled  long  and  far,  dear  Lord, 

Upon  life's  varied  way. 
I've  braved  the  storm,  enjoyed  the  calm, 

Known  night  and  sunny  day! 
But  now  the  windings  of  the  road 

Are  lost  in   straighter  lines — 
I'm  Going  Home ;  the  rest  draws  near 

For  which  my  spirit  pines ! 

Of  all  the  winding  road  I  take 

A  retrospective  view ; 
Along  it  lie  my  tears  and  toil, 

Success  and  failure,  too ! 
I  see  the  bounding,  buoyant  hopes, 

The  joyous,  laugh-filled  hours — 
But  now,  dear  Lord,  I'm  Going  Home, 

I've  culled  life's  thorns  and  flowers ! 

I've  drunk  the  promise  sweet  of  dawn, 
I've  stood  'neath  noon's  red  sky, 

I've  felt  the  twilight's  tender  peace, 
And  now  the  night  is  nigh ! 


78  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


I  do  not  dread  its  darkness  deep, 

It  speaks  of  rest  to  me ! 
I'm  Going  Home,  dear  Lord,  at  last, 

I'm  Going  Home  to  Thee ! 

I'm  going  home  to  Him  who  waits 

For  me  beyond  the  shade, 
So  do  not  weep,  though  'neath  the  grass 

My  lowly  bed  be  made! 
I  long  to  sleep,  then  wake  in  bliss, 

The  thought  is  joy  to  me ! 
I'm  Going  Home,  dear  Lord,  at  last, 

I'm  Going  Home  to  Thee! 


MOTHER  MARIANA    OF    THE    SISTERS    OF 
CHARITY  OF  ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 

The  curtains  of  thy  noble  life 

With  reverent  hand  I  draw  aside, 
To  show  the  world  the  virtues  rare 

That  Vincent's  Daughter  fain  would  hide. 

Gifted  beyond  the  lot  of  most, 

A  bright  young  mind  endowed  with  all 

That  wins  the  plaudits  of  the  world, 

Bows  meekly  down  beneath  Christ's  thrall. 

She  hears  the  "call" — more  sweet  by  far 

Than  any  music  earth  can  play ; 
It  leads  her  'mid  Christ's  lowly  poor, 

Along  St.  Vincent's  fruitful  way. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  79 


Life's  silvery  dawn,  its  golden  noon, 
Its  chastened,  softened  sunset  hours, 

Are  burdened  for  her  dearest  Lord 

With  choicest  buds  from  Virtue's  bowers. 

The  tender,  helpless,  lonely  babe, 

That's  left  to  weather  life's  hard  storms, 

Finds  shelter  safe  within  her  love, 
That  waits  beside  with  open  arms. 

The  fair  young  soul  just  reaching  out 
To  view  the  vista  of  its  dreams, 

Is  led  by  her  up  "Science  Hills," 

But  all  the  way  glow  Faith's  strong  beams. 

When  cruel  War  stalked  forth  to  lay 
His  curse  upon  our  treasured  land, 

The  soldier's  pain-racked  mind  and  frame 
Found  soothing  rest  'neath  "Sister's"  hand. 

But  O  the  last,  the  sweetest  years, 
When  she,  our  "Mother,"  stood  beside ! 

Years  rich  in  grace  and  peace  and  love, 
And  work  for  "Jesus  Crucified!" 

Tears  for  our  dead,  our  well-beloved, 

Our  noble,  kindly,  loving  one ! 
Above  her  grave  we  weep,  but  pray 

As  she  would  wish,  "Thy  will  be  done !" 


80  GARLAND    OF    S  O  N  G 


Good-night,  dear  "Mother !"  not  "Good-bye !" 
You  sailed  away  with  Life's  swift  tide ! 

But  O,  dear  heart !  you're  safely  moored 
Near  Him  you  love,  Christ  Crucified! 

Good-night !   Good-night !   When  morning  breaks, 

Be  thou  the  first  to  greet  thy  own ! 
To  bid  us  welcome  to  the  Feast 

We  trust  awaits  us  'round  the  Throne. 


SUMMER  DAYS. 

Blow,  Summer  breeze !   O  how  I  love 

To  feel  your  soft  caress 
That  charms  away  all  care  and  thrills 

The  soul  with  happiness. 
Rustle  the  leaves,  the  blossoms  bend, 

And  make  the  grasses  wave, 
Let  Summer  load  your  wings  with  sweets, 

Ere  Autumn  digs  its  grave. 

O  Summer  days !  so  dear  to  me, 

I'm  loath  to  let  you  go, 
To  see  your  radiant  beauty  hide 

Beneath  the  Winter's  snow. 
As  all  we  love  grows  fairest  when 

Death's  angel  draweth  nigh, 
So  you  are  sweetest  near  the  time 

You  fade  away  and  die. 


GARLANDOFSONG  81 

0  Summer  days !  I  cannot  count 
Your  precious  gifts  to  me, 

Nor  could  I  measure  half  the  joys 
I've  gathered  up  from  thee ! 

1  can  but  store  your  treasures  rich 
Deep  down  in  memory's  cell, 

And  there,  when  life  brings  shadowy  hours, 
I'll  send  my  thoughts  to  dwell. 


THE    NEW   YEAR. 

The  Old  Year  stands  with  hands  outstretched, 
To  take  our  own  in  parting  clasp, 

And  ere  we  lose  his  feeble  touch, 

We  feel  the  New  Year's  vigorous  grasp. 

The  Old  Year  moves  along  the  road, 
To  Memory's  halls  with  pictures  filled, 

Where  old-time  songs  and  old-time  talks 
Will  chime  and  ring  till  life  is  stilled. 

Beside  us  stands  the  bright  New  Year, 
Erect  and  strong  in  lusty  youth, 

But  'round  him  folds  a  close-meshed  veil, 
That  hides  from  all  the  Future's  truth. 

Yet  he  that's  walked  for  any  length 

Along  life's  dark  or  sunny  ways, 
Yearns  not  to  lift  the  veil  that  hides 

The  joy  or  gloom  of  coming  days. 

6 


82  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


For  we  who  live  the  Past  again, 

Who  all  its  shade  and  sunshine  see ; 

Know  that  fulfilled  His  promise  was : 
"Just  as  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be !" 

And  thus  no  mystic  veil  we  dread, 
But  trust  the  God  who  loves  us  all, 

The  watchful  care  that  never  sleeps, 
That  even  notes  the  sparrow's  fall. 


TO  MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  A.  G.  A. 

0  husband  dear,  just  lent  to  me 

To  let  me  taste  the  sweets  of  love ! 
And  then  to  fall  asleep  in  God, 
To  wake  to  Christmas  joys  above! 

Alas  for  us,  the  wife  beloved, 
The  precious,  darling  baby  boy ! 

How  can  we  face  the  lonely  way, 
Bereft  of  thee,  our  dearest  joy! 

1  gaze   along  the  road   we've   passed, 
So  full  of  blooming,  fragrant  flowers, 

Where  songs  of  hope  rang  sweetly  clear, 
And  all  the  bliss  of  love  was  ours ! 

And  now  the  kindly,  noble  heart, 
The  ever-watchful  tender  care 

Are  gone !  but  O,  with  all  my  heart, 
I  bless  thee,  dearest,  lying  there ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  83 


I  bless  thee  for  the  blissful  years 
That  made  my  life  a  happy  dream ! 

I  bless  thee  for  the  floods  of  joy 
That  poured  to  me  from  Love's  pure  stream ! 

I  bless  thee  for  the  noble  life, 

A   beacon-light   still   shining  on, 
To  guide  along  the  darkened  way 

The  lonely  wife,  the  baby  son! 

God  bless  thee,  dearest!    In  His  love 

O  may  He  hold  thee  evermore! 
O  plead  that  on  our  aching  hearts 

His  balm  of  comfort  He  may  pour ! 


PAUL. 

Face    framed    in   aureole,   golden  bright, 
Eyes    shining  out  with  Heaven's  own  light, 
Cheeks  tinted  pink  as  the  rose-leaf  in  June, 
Lips  roundly  curved  like  the  silvery  new  moon, 
Dear  little  face  to  the  window  close  pressed, 
Watching  for  "mother,"  the  one  he  loves  best! 

Love  all  around  thee,  O  beautiful  boy! 

Life  sings  for  thee  a  sweet  song  of  joy! 

Blessings  and  tenderest  of  care  are  thy  own, 

God  grant  that  "mother's"  prayer  reaches  the  throne, 

So  that  the  dear  little  son  may  some  day, 

Be  "daddy's"  prototype,  her  hope  and  stay. 


84  GAR  LAND     OF    SONG 


THE   ROSES. 

Beautiful   rose,  with  your  crimson  heart, 
Bowing  to  me   from  your   trellised   wall, 

Dropping  your  petals  down  here  at  my  feet, 
Sending  out  perfume,  as  past  me  you  fall ! 

Crimson  your  heart  as  the  blood  of  my  Lord, 
Flowing  on  Mother  Church  altars  to-day ! 

Filling  the  world  with  its  odors  of  grace, 
Washing  the  sins  of  the  sinful  away ! 

Stream  never-ending,  Fountain  of  love, 
Cooling  the  fires  of  our  passion  and  pain, 

Strength'ning  the  weak,    and    refreshing   the    strong, 
Pouring  forth  love  as  the  skies  pour  the  rain. 


WELCOME   HOME. 

I've  heard  the  sweetest,  softest  strains 

That  music  calls  to  birth ! 
I've  gazed  upon  the  fairest  scenes 

That  lie  on  God's  fair  earth ! 
And  voices  "tuned   to   melody" 

And  beauy's  face  with  starlit  eyes 
Have    met    me    in    my  wanderings 

'Neath  many  foreign  skies! 

But  now   in  two  dear  words  I  hear 
The  sweetest  strains  of   all, 

As  echoes  glad  of  "Welcome  Home!" 
Around  me  softly  fall ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  85 


O,  brighter  than  the  brightest  skies 

My  native  ones  now  seem, 
And  fairer  than  the  fairest  lands 

My  own  loved  home  I  deem ! 

What  orbs  to  me  so  beautiful 

As  eyes  of  those  I  prize? 
What  voices  are  so  music-filled 

'Neath  any  foreign  skies? 
Sweet    "Welcome  Home!"      Within  your  depths 

What  bliss  there  lies  for  me, 
That  with  the  hearts  I  love  the  best, 

Once  more  my  own  can  be ! 


MONTH    OF   THE   SACRED    HEART. 

O  month  of  the  roses!     O  beautiful  June! 
When  over  the  earth  all  of  nature's  in  tune ! 
When  leaves  in  their  rustlings  talk  back  to  the  birds, 
And   streams   in  their   ripplings    sing   "songs  without 

words," 

When   mountains   all   bathed  in  the  softest   of  mists, 
Look  down  on  the  valleys  the  sunbeams  have  kissed ! 

O  beautiful  month  with  the  life-giving  rays, 
To   the   dear   Sacred  Heart  do  we  offer   your   days; 
To  the  Heart  that  was  opened  so  long,  long  ago, 
That  the  stream  of  its  mercy  forever  might  flow, 
That  the  world  might  be  cleansed  in  the  deep  crim 
son  tide 
That  flows  evermore  from  the  wound  in  the  side ! 


86  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Where  the  weak  find  their  strength,  and  the  weary 

find  rest ; 
Where   the   sinner  finds   peace  and   the   saint   grows 

more  blest; 
Where  the  proud  one  is  meek  and  the  doubter  finds 

light; 

Where  the  shades  of  repining  steal  far  out  of  sight ; 
Where  peace  and  tranquillity  reign  evermore ; 
O  dear  Sacred  Heart !  we  Thy  blessing  implore ! 


GO   TO   JOSEPH! 

Sometimes,  roads  of  life  are  stony, 

And  they  bruise  our  aching  feet; 
Sometimes,  cup  of  life  is  bitter, 

Holding  not  a  drop  of  sweet. 
Do  you  want  a  balm  of  healing? 

Will  you  quaff  a  wine  that  cheers? 
Go  to  Joseph  !     He  will  give  them, 

Let  him  wipe  away  your  tears! 

Sometimes,  roads  have  many  turnings, 

Which  to  take  is  hard  to  know ; 
Sometimes,  even  friends  forget  us, 

And  the  storm-clouds  hover  low. 
Do  you  want  the  wisest  counsel? 

Do  you  seek  a  friendship  true  ? 
Go  to  Joseph  !     Ask  his  blessing ! 

It  will  flow  in  streams  on  you. 


GARLANDOFSONG  87 


Some  day  when  life's  sun  is  sinking 

In  the  cloudlands  of  the  west, 
And  your  dearest  can  but  whisper, 

"Give  to  him  eternal  rest !" 
Do  you  know  who'll  not  desert  you, 

When  Death's  darkness  folds  o'er  you? 
Go  to  Joseph !    Trust  him  fully, 

He  will  prove  a  guardian  true ! 


THE    NEW   YEAR'S    MESSAGE. 

Come,  take  my  book,  dear  heart.     Its  leaves 

Are  white  as  falling  snow. 
The  last  year's  volume,  bound  and  clasped, 

Lies  in  the  "Long  ago !" 

'Tis  formed  entire  of  God's  dear  will, 

This  precious  book  I  bear! 
'Tis  bound  in  Love  and  clasped  by  Faith, 

While  Hope  lies  everywhere ! 

Across  its  leaves  of  spotless  white, 

O  trace  in  lines  of  light 
The  thoughts  and  deeds  that  surely  will 

Find  favor  in  God's  sight! 

And  when  with  "Finis"  written  o'er 

'Tis  laid  within  the  Past, 
May  many  a  happy  New  Year  book 

Be  thine,  ere  comes  the  last. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG 


MEMORY'S    ANSWER. 

Dead,  do  you  say?     Those  days  of  old, 

With  their  pleasant  paths  and  their  hearts  of  gold, 

With  the  tears  that  dried  as  soon  as  they  fell, 

With  the  joys  that  held  us  'neath  pleasure's  spell, 

With  the  smiles  that  came  at  each  merry  word, 

With  the  songs  the  sweetest  ear  ever  heard. 

Dead  ?    The  hearts  and  the  days,  beloved  so  well  ? 

Ah,  never,  while  memory  throws  its  spell 

All  over  the  Past !     Outring  the  chimes 

From  the  merry  days  of  the  dear  "Old  Times," 

As  true  and  as  clear  to  the  heart  to-day, 

As  they  rang  in  the  lands  of  the  Far  Away ! 

When  toil  grows  heavy,  and  hearts  grow  sore, 

We  hear  the  bells  from  the  days  of  yore, 

And  they  never  can  die,  those  days  of  old, 

With  their  pleasant  paths  and  their  hearts  of  gold ! 


THE   PRECIOUS   BLOOD. 

O,  ruby-tinted  stream  that  flowed 

For  us  long  years  ago, 
Within  whose  lucid  depths  there  glowed 

The  love  but  God  can  show. 

Upon  the  cruel  cross   'twas   shed 

In  love's  grand  mighty  tide ! 
From  hands,   from  feet,    from  thorn-crowned   head 

And  from  the  lance-pierced  side ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  89 


We   greet   thee,    precious,    precious    blood, 
Glowing  with  love's  pure  light! 

With  tears  we  view  thee,  wondrous  flood, 
Bedewing    Calvary's    height. 

Each  day  upon  our  altars  fair 
With  softened  lights  you  glow, 

All   through  the  hearts  there  purified 
You  gently,  clearly  flow. 

And  each  day,  too,  with  eager  love 
You  come  to   sin-stained  hearts, 

To  bring  them  peace  from  Heaven  above 
And  hope's  sweet  joys  impart. 

Come,  come  and  with  thy  fervent  heat 

O,  melt  the  ice-bound  heart! 
There  nourish   seeds  of  virtue   blest, 

Bid  weeds  of  vice  depart ! 

There  keep  the  lily  and  the  rose, 

The  violet  so  fair, 
Until  one  bright  bouquet  it  glows 

To  bloom  near  God  fore'er! 


TO  ELIZA  ALLEN  STARR. 

And  now  the  vesper  bells  have  rung, 
The  shades  of  night  are  here, 

While  o'er  the  deep,  dark  waves  of  Death 
The  boatman's  voice  rings  clear : 


90  GARLAND    OF    SONG 

"Come,  gentle  soul,  thy  toil  is  o'er ! 

The  hour  of  rest  has  come ! 
The  Father  bids  me  summon  thee 

To  sail  away  toward  Home. 
The  smooth,  still  water  speaks  of  sleep, 

No  storm  will  break  its  calm, 
As  on  we  sail  to  win  for  thee 

A  victor's  deathless  palm  !" 


MARCH. 

Whiz !  Whiz !   goes  the  wind  like  a  cannon  ball, 

Dashing  on  in  a  mad  career! 
Whirling  the  snowflakes  wildly  round, 

Sighing  and  moaning  and  whistling  near! 
Calling  down  through  the  fireplace  wide, 

Taunting  the  flame  as  it  leaps  on  high, 
Bending  the  trees  and  lashing  the  waves, 

The  blustering  month  of  March  am  I ! 


AN  ACROSTIC. 

Earth  rejoice,  and  hymn  your  praise ! 
Angels  sing  your  heavenly  lays  ! 
Sin  and  Death  are  conquered  now, 
To  the  risen  Christ  they  bow ! 
Easter,  glorious  feast,  is  here ! 
Ring,  O  Alleluias,  clear ! 


GARLAND    OF    SON  G  91 


THE  CHAPEL  LIGHT. 

Below,  the  hum  of  busy  tongues, 

The  sound  of  laughter  gay; 
Above,  the  prayer  of  reverent  hearts, 

Where   God's  pure  love  has  sway. 
Below,  the  glare  of  gas  or  lamp 

To  make  the  darkness  bright ; 
Above,  the  golden  softened  glow — 

The  dear,  dear  Chapel  Light ! 

Below,  the  lives  of  ceaseless  toil 

To  gain  the  gifts  of  earth; 
Above,  the   earnest  prayer  to   win 

God's  things — they  know  their  worth. 
Below,  poor  spirits  war  against 

The  Lord  of  Holy  Might; 
Above,  submission's  incense  breathes 

Around  the  Chapel  Light! 

Below,  the   world    its   cunning  web 

Twines   oft   around  the   soul ; 
Above,  the  safeguards  from  its  mesh, 

The  helps  to  reach   the   goal. 
Below,  Ambition's  proud  demands 

The  noblest  spirits  blight ; 
Above,  ah,  naught  but  God's  own  peace 

Breathes   'round  the  Chapel  Light! 

Pure,  golden  rays !  around  thee  still 
The  tenderest  memories  rest! 

Our  Chapel  Light !  our  Altar  loved ! 
Our  School,  the  dearest,  best! 


92  G  ARLAN  D     O  F    S  ON  G 


O  may  God  bless  the  treasured  hearts 

That  precious  home  once  knew, 
And  keep  them  fresh  and  pure  as  then, 

To  childhood's  teachings  true ! 

Dear  "Light  of  Home !"  as  darkness  creeps, 

We  watch  thy  rays  appear, 
And  hearts  go  forth  to  Him  who  rests 

Behind   thy   radiance   clear ! 
O  may  our  lives  for  Him  e'er  glow 

Amid  the  world's  dark  night, 
And  in  His  service,  die  away 

Like  thee,   dear  Chapel  Light! 


"GOD  IS  GOOD." 

"God  is  good,"   the  dancing   sunbeams 

Paint   in  tints  of  gold, 
"God  is  good,"  within  their  petals 

Nature's  flowers  enfold. 

"God  is  good,"  the  sparkling  raindrops 

Speak  in  music  low, 
"God  is  good,"  the  limpid  brooklets 

Ripple  as  they  flow. 

"God  is  good,"  rings  thro'  the  woodland, 

Birds  peal  forth  the  song, 
"God    is   good,"  the   stars   are  beaming 

'Mid   their  glorious   throng. 


GARLAND     OF    SO  NG  93 


"God  is  good,"  the  rainbow  smileth 

From  the    glowing    sky. 
"God   is  good,"   the  south  winds  softly 

Through    the    forest    sigh. 

"God  is  good!"    All  nature's  ringing 

With  the  notes  of  praise ! 
"God  is  good!"     O,  man  re-echo! 

Grateful  peans  raise. 

"God  is  good !"  and  man  He  loveth 

With  an   endless   love ! 
"God  is  good !"     O,  may  we  sing  it 

In    His  Home   above ! 


REQUIESCANT! 

O,  dear  old  mother  lying  there 

In  arms  of  perfect  Rest, 
"Pis  not  for  thee  that  tears  fall  fast, 

While  pity  wrings  the  breast, 
But  for  the  lonely,  aching  hearts 

That,   mourning,   weep  to-day, 
Because  the  precious  Light  of  Home 

Passed  from  their  sight  away. 

They  know  it  has  but  glided  on 
Along  Death's  calmest  deep, 

To  live,  within  the  Heart  of  Him, 
Who  gives  His  loved  ones  sleep. 


94  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Faith's  star  is  shining  through  their  tears, 
Hope  sings  within  their  souls, 

But  O,  'tis  Love  that  weeping  stands 
Where  Death's  dark  water  rolls ! 

Yet  He,  who  wept  o'er  Lazarus  dead, 

Chides  not  their  yearning  cry, 
But  holds  them  near  His  Sacred  Heart, 

And  points  beyond  the  sky, 
To  where  the  Mother,  patient,  sweet, 

So  loved,  so  treasured  here, 
Still  lifts  her  voice  in  suppliant  prayer, 

For  sister,   children,   dear. 

My  girlhood's  friend,  turn  back  with  me 

On  road  of  "Auld  Lang  Syne," 
And  list  again  our  "Sister's"  voice : 

'Thy  will,  O  Lord!  not  mine!" 
The  human  friend  but  weeps  with  Thee, 

Aid  comes  from  Heart  divine ! 
O  take  the  chalice  from  His  Hands! 

Thy  will,  O  Lord!  not  mine! 


VOICES    IN    THE  RAIN. 

Patter!   Patter!   Patter!     Hear  the 

Dropping  of  the   rain! 
While  it  plays  its  mournful  music 

On  the  roof  and  pane! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  95 


List  the  breezes,   sobbing   requiems 

O'er   the   dying   flowers! 
Faded   leaves   and   grasses,  children 

Of  the   summer   hours ! 

And  they  wake  a  strain  as  saddening 

In   the    heart   to-night. 
Stirring  chords  of  longing   for  the 

Faces  gone  from  sight! 

Patter!  Patter!  sadly  falling 

On  their  graves  so   deep, 
But  the  raindrops  may  not  rouse  them 

From  their  dreamless  sleep ! 


And  yet,  O  dead  and  dying  flowers, 
And  grasses  brown  and  sere, 

The  dreary  days  will  soon  be  o'er, 
Life-giving  spring  appear ! 

Her  dulcet  tones  will  bid  thee  rise 

Lovely    in    form    and    hue, 
To  grace  again  the  velvet  sward 

Bedecked  in  beauty  new. 

And  lonely  hearts,  the  loved  ones  gone 
You'll  meet  beyond  the  skies 

Aglowr   with   all   the  light  of   love, 
That  burns   in   Paradise. 


96  GARLANDOFSONG 


A    REVERIE. 

To  every  'heart  there  comes  a  time 
When  God  sends  bitter,  bitter  woes, 

And  vainly  through  the  vale  of  life, 
We  seek  a  spot  where  sunlight  glows. 

We  sit  and  moan  'neath  shadows  dark, 

O'er  idols  broken  at  our  feet, 
And  cry  "O,  grief  and  woe  intense, 

No  deeper  pain  our  hearts  can  greet !" 

And  yet  to  see  a  loved  one's  woe, 

Methinks  is  grief  more  deep, 
To  gaze  all  helplessly  on  pain 

Love  cannot  lull  to  sleep. 

And  though  the  heart  so  prized  and  tried 
Can  hide  the  cloud  'neath  sunny  smile, 

To  know  that  o'er  the  brave,  true  life, 
The  darkened  hours  still  reign  the  while. 

And  yet,  ah,  me !  we  cannot  lift 

One  shadow  from  that  life, 
The  Love  that  floods  our  souls  must  lie 

All  powerless  in  the  strife. 

All  powerless?   Yes,     until  we  kneel 

To  Him  who  hears  each  sigh, 
And  weep  before  the  Sacred  Heart 

That  bled  on  Calvary  high. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  97 


Then  passing  gently  through  our  souls 
Sweet  Hope  her  web  can  weave, 

And  sing  a  hymn  whose  burden  is, 
"Ask,  and  you  shall  receive." 

And  though  we  know  'tis  bitter  woe 
To  watch  a  loved  one's  pain, 

We  feel  that  soon  our  prayers  will  wake 
The  sunshine  after  rain. 


SUMMER'S  GOING. 

Summer's  going!     Summer's  going! 

Nature  sings  in  saddened  tone ; 
Soon  will  sobbing  Autumn  breezes 

Wail  o'er  leaves  their  requiem  moan ! 
Soon  the  flowers  will  droop  and  wither, 

Pining  for  the  sun's  warm  ray, 
And  the  earth's  sweet  songsters  speed  them 

To  a  softer  clime  away. 
Then  will  icy  winds  of  Winter 

Fetter  fast  the  forest  stream, 
And  the  snow  in  lily  whiteness 

All  around  us  coldly  gleam ! 

But  then,  when  Spring's  soft  raindrops  fall, 

The  snow  will  disappear ; 
We'll  list  again  the  brooklet's  voice 

And  birds'  sweet  music  hear. 

7 


98  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  sun  his  brightest  rays  will  beam, 
And  wake  anew  the  flowers, 

And  earth  with  siren  voice  soon  hail 
The  Summer's  gladsome  hours ! 

Souls  are  losing,  souls  are  losing 

Fairest  beauties  day  by  day ; 
Winds  of  sin  come  sweeping  o'er  them 

Bearing  Truth's  green  leaves  away ; 
Flowers  of  virtue  droop  and  wither, 

Pine  they  all  for  love's  warm  ray ; 
Dim  the  lamp  of  Faith  is  burning; 

Hope's  sweet  songsters  speed  away. 
All  that's  good,  and  all  that's  noble, 

Far  off,  slowly,  surely  roll ; 
Dark  Despair,  with  icy  fingers, 

Tightly  grasps  the  shrinking  soul. 

But  then  God's  grace  like  Spring's  soft  rains 

Soon  melts  the  icebound  heart, 
And  bids  sweet  Hope  chime  forth  again 

And  dread  Despair  depart ! 
The  flowers  of  virtue  raise  their  heads 

To  greet  the  sun  of  love ; 
The  lamp  of  Faith  beams  out  again, 

Lit  by  the  Hand  above. 
The  soul  pours  forth  a  gladsome  strain; 

'Tis  echoed  e'en  on  high. 
Sing,  happy  soul,  sing  on  for  aye, 

Thy  Summertime  is  nigh ! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  99 


MY  ROSARY. 

My  chaplet  fair  of  shimmering  pearls! 

My  rosary,  dear  to  me! 
How  many  a  hope  and  thought  and  care 

I've  whispered  unto  thee! 

How  many  a  time  my  fingers  slipped 

Along  each  shining  stone, 
While  every  "Ave"  from  my  lips 

Was  sorrow's  sobbing  moan ! 

But  with  "Hail  Mary"  came  a  calm 

That  soothed  the  bitter  pain, 
And  tears  gave  birth  to  flowers  of  peace, 

As  buds  awrake  in  rain ! 

How  many  a  time  those  Aves  rose, 

Burdened  with  joy  and  praise, 
Rose  from  a  heart  as  full  of  bliss 

As  sunbeams  are  of  rays ! 

And  softly  fell  Hail  Marys  then 

At  our  dear  Mother's  feet, 
And  while  I  knelt — her  grateful  child — 

The  sweetness  grew  more  sweet! 

When  doubt's  dense  darkness  gathered  'round 

And  hid  the  light  from  me, 
How  many  a  time,  O  rosary  loved! 

I  told  the  tale  to  thee ! 


100  GARLAND     OF    SO  N  G 


And  then  "Hail  Mary  full  of  Grace" 

Lit  up  the  darkened  sky, 
And  Doubt  stole  off,  a  vanquished  foe, 

While  Hope  and  Peace  drew  nigh! 

Thou  art  a  friend  that  never  broke 

The  trust  reposed  in  thee ! 
Thou  art  a  fount  that  never  failed 

To  yield  deep  draughts  to  me! 

Thou  knowest  all  my  hopes  and  fears, 

My  sorrow,  joy  and  care, 
Yet  thou  art  silent,  save  to  me, 

O  Rosary!  loved  and  fair! 


THE  BELLS. 

How  fair !  how  sweet  this  world  of  ours, 

Now  Summer  reigns  its  queen! 
What  stores  of  joy  for  us  abide 

In  woods,  'neath  skies  serene! 
O  deep  the  draughts  of  peace  we  quaff 

While  roaming  quiet  dells, 
And  listening,  as  the  shadows  fall, 

To  chimes  from  distant  bells  ! 

Long,  long  ago,  o'er  storm-tossed  seas, 
A  "Peace,  be  still !"  was  heard ; 

The  troubled  waves  grew  strangely  calm, 
Obedient  to  His  word. 


GARLAND    OF    S  ON  G  101 

Methinks,  if  o'er  my  soul  there  flowed 

Of  saddening  thoughts  a  tide, 
Could  I  but  list  the  bells  at  eve 

The  tempest  would  subside. 

Peace !  peace !  they  ring  from  out  their  heights, 

From  out  the  home  of  prayer, 
To  hearts  that  bravely  strive  to  breast 

The  mighty  waves  of  care  ! 
O  hark  the  promise  of  the  bells, 

"Peace !    After  troubled  days, 
Peace!     If  you  seek  it  from  the  God 

We  call  on  you  to  praise !" 


FANCY'S  CHIMINGS. 

Fancy's  chimings !    How  we  love  them 

In  the  morning  of  life's  day, 
When  they  ring  out  Hope's  rich  promise, 

Ring  it  all  along  the  way! 

Fancy's  chimings !    How  we  listen 
In  life's  fervid  hour  of  noon, 

Building,  while  they  ring  their  message, 
Castles,  crumbling  all  too  soon! 

Fancy's  chimings!    How  they  brighten 
Life's  long,  lonely,  evening  hours, 

Bearing  us  upon  their  music 

Into  restful,  dream-filled  bowers. 


102  GARLAND     OF    SO  NG 

A  FANCY. 

Two  brooklets,  in  their  silvery  course, 
Long  days  ran  side  by  side, 

And  loved  the  path  they  rambled  through. 
The  verdant  valley  wide. 

They  loved  each  other ;  every  beam 
Sent  down  to  light  their  foam 

Was  shared,  and  brighter  seemed  than  rays 
That  glanced  outside  their  home. 

Or  if  the  shade  e'er  fell  athwart, 
They  rippled  songs  of  cheer, 

Until  the  shadow  stole  away 
To  show  the  sunlight  clear. 

O  merrily,  merrily  passed  those  days 
When  love  smiled  over  all, 

And  brooklets  sang  they'd  constant  be 
Whatever  might  befall. 

One  day  they  reached  the  valley's  end ; 

A  forest  grand  they  spied, 
And  sped  to  greet  its  shady  depths, 

As  ever  side  by  side. 

But  when  they  entered,  one,  all  dazed 
By  flowers  so  strange  and  fair, 

By  trees  that  seemed  to  touch  the  sky 
And  songs  that  filled  the  air, 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  103 

And,  more  than  all,  by  placid  streams 

That  gently  flowed  beside, 
Sped  from  the  friend  of  other  days. 

Through  newer  paths  to  glide. 

The  lonely  streamlet  mourns  the  vale 

Where  love  smiled  over  all, 
And  brooklets  sang  of  constancy 

Whatever  might  befall. 


AUTUMN  DAYS. 

You  beam  around  our  every  path, 

O  softened  Autumn  days  ! 
The  sweetest  smiles  of  nature's  face 

Aglow  with  golden  rays ! 
WTe  love  you,  month  of  sunset  lights, 

The  best  of  all  the  year, 
And  yet  the  heart  is  saddest  when 

Your  whisperings  greet  the  ear ; 
For  vanished  days  with  all  their  joys 

Before  the  soul  arise, 
Till  every  breeze  seems  laden  with 

A  chorus  of  good-byes ! 

Imagination,  airy  sprite, 

Come,  fold  your  arms  around 

And  hie  with  me  to  pastoral  scenes 
Where  songs  of  peace  resound ! 

The  city's  roaring,  surging  waves 
Of  noise  seem  strange  to-day ! 


104  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


They  clash  and  chafe — I  fain  would  rest — 

Corqe,  hasten  far  away 
To  woodland  haunts  where  Autumn  winds 

Sing  requiems  sad  but  sweet, 
For  russet,  gold  and  crimson  leaves 

Asleep  beneath  our  feet ! 

How  full  of  rest  those  grand  old  woods ! 

But  noble,  stately  trees, 
Why  must  your  leaves  of  changing  light 

Fly  with  each  passing  breeze? 
"Their  work  is  done !    The  Summer  long 

They  threw  their  cooling  shade ; 
Lovely  in  life,  see  e'en  in  death 

Their  beauty  does  not  fade ! 
Will  you  not  miss  their  clinging  arms, 

Their  music  night  and  day?" 
"Ah,  yes !"  the  branches  sighed,  "but  we 

The  voice  of  God  obey  !" 

O  human,  restless  hearts  !    When  joy 

Lies  dead  beneath  our  feet, 
Why  not  believe  "It  brightened  life, 

Its  work  is  now  complete !" 
And  why  not  let  its  memory  live, 

A  thing  of  beauty  bright, 
To  crush  rebellious  thoughts  'gainst  Him 

Who  bore  it  from  our  sight? 

O  Fancy !   spirit  kind  to  me ! 
Your  wand  is  laid  aside! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  105 


Back  to  the  city's  busy  din 

We  fly  from  woodlands  wide ! 

But  as  the  fevered  earth  revives 
Beneath  the  welcome  rain, 

So  you  a  cooling  hand  have  pressed 
On  brow  and  heart  and  brain  ! 


APRIL. 

Skies  of  blue  and  skies  of  gray, 

Hours  of  sun  and  shade, 
Tears  that  soon  are  merged  in  smiles, 

Smiles  that  quickly  fade; 
Such  are  April's  varied  days, 

Month  of  sunny  showers, 
Waking  emerald  grass  and  leaves, 

Brooks  and  springtime  flowers. 


AT  REST. 

Along  the  old  familiar  ways, 
While  smile  the  skies  o'erhead, 

While  trees  are  robed  in  Summer's  garb 
And  blossoms  sweetness  shed, 

With  stricken  hearts  we  slowly  pass 
Through  paths  beloved  fore'er, 

To  the  fair  "city  of  the  dead," 
The  precious  mother  bear. 


106  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Here,  where  her  youth's  fair  sunshine  streamed, 

Where  shadows  sometimes   fell, 
We  lay  her  'mid  the  scenes  and  friends 

Her  loyal   heart   loved  well. 

They    press    around,  the  friends    beloved, 

And  gaze  on  marble  brow, 
On  silent  lips,  on  death-touched  eyes, 

That  cannot  greet    them    now. 

Dear  generous  heart !  so  brave,  so  bright, 

As  true  as  shining  steel ! 
O   never,   never  more  thou'lt  throb 

At  aught  of  woe  or  weal! 

And  though  thy  children  bend  o'er  thee, 

With  hearts  that  ache   and  yearn, 
Thy  soft,  dark  eyes  no  more  on  earth 

Will  love's  fond  gaze   return. 

But  list !     Through  my  heartdepths  are  wafted  sweet 
tones, 

And  I  see,  through  the  shadows,  soft  light; 
Look,  look  on  the  sky  in  its  beauty  and  peace, 

And  turn  from  the  grave's  deepened  night ! 

O  children,  so  worthy  the  loved  one  asleep! 

The  tomb  is  her  pathway  to  life, 
To   eternity   glorious,    teeming   with  bliss, 

Freed  forever  from  care  and  from  strife. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  10? 


Through  memory's  halls  you  will  evermore  hear 
The  tones  that  so  fondly  you  love, 

Till  at  last  in  a  melody  sweet  they  will  blend 
With  your  own,  in  the  mansions  above. 

Then  gaze  on  the  sky  smiling  blue  overhead, 
And  turn  from  the  grave's  shadows  deep, 

O  trust  the  dear  Father  who  chastens  His  own 
And  who  gave  the  beloved  one  sleep. 


ON  DECK. 

I  gaze  on  the  restless,  rolling  waves, 

As  they  pass  beneath  my  eye, 
And  list  while  they  moan  and  sob  and  fret, 

For  the  shores  of  rest  they  sigh ! 

But  I  know  that  beneath  their  heaving  breasts, 

Below  where  the  eye  can  reach, 
Is  a  deep,  a  wondrous  land  of  calm, 

A  peace  surpassing  speech ! 

I  think  of  some  hearts  that  I  have  known, 

Noble  and  strong  and  brave, 
That  have  bent  so  many,  many  times 

'Neath  sorrow's  rolling  wave; 

That  have  felt  the  tempest's  fury  break 

On  every  side,  but  found 
A  harbor  safe  in  God's  dear  heart, 

A  rest,  a  peace  profound ! 


108  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


And  the  world  saw  naught  but  the  storms  of  pain 

That  over  the  surface  broke, 
Knew  naught  of  the  deep  where  the  soul  found  peace, 

As  alone  with  its  God  it  spoke. 


MY  GIFT. 

Sweet  blossoms  robed  in  beauty's  garb, 

You  come  to  me   to-day 
To  whisper  messages  of  love 

From   friends  so   far  away. 

To  haunts  where  balmy  breezes  blow, 
Where  air  is  filled  with  song, 

You  bear  me  off  on  fancy's  wings 
From    out   the   city's   throng; 

Away  where  leaves  on  woodland  paths 

Glow  golden  ere  they  die, 
As  faces  that  we  love  appear 

More  sweet  as  death  draws  nigh ; 

To  where  in  spirit  now  I  list 

To  birds  whose  notes  arise 
Clearer,  methinks,  because  full  soon 

They'll  sing  'neath  Summer  skies ! 

O  pansies !  with  your  eyes  of  blue 

And  hearts  of  sunny  gold, 
And  robes  of  purple  clinging  'round 

In   softest  velvet  folds ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  109 


I  read  upon  your  blooming  cheeks 

The  sender's    loving  thought, 
And  for  the  welcome  gift  my  heart 

With  gratitude  is  fraught. 

You've  borne  to  me  the  peace  that  hides 

In  rural  scenes  away, 
And  filled  my  soul  with  thoughts  that  made 

Me  better  for  their  stay. 

A  blessing  on  the  blossoms  pure ! 

God's  gifts  of  bounteous  love ; 
That  draw  the  heartstrings  far   from   earth, 

To  bind  them  fast  above! 


THE  PROCESSION  OF  THE  BLESSED 
SACRAMENT. 

The  waves  of  sorrow  flood  the  soul ; 

They  buffet  fierce  and  fast; 
They  toss  and  sweep,  they  roar  and  surge, 

Till  Hope  seems  drowned  at  last ! 
Not  yet,  dear  soul !     Sweet  help  is  nigh 
In  Jesus  passing,  passing  by  ! 

The  clouds  of  doubt  loom  up  before. 

So  dense  and  darkly  drear ! 
No  faith  in  God !    No  trust  in  man  ! 

The  skies  will  never  clear! 
Look  up,  dear  soul !     Sweet  light  draws  nigh 
In  Jesus  passing,  passing  by! 


110  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  fires  of  sin,  like  desert  winds, 
Sear  up  the  flowers  of  grace! 

Despair,  with  parching  lips,  exclaims : 
"No  hope  to  see  His  face !" 

Arise,  dear  soul !     Sweet  mercy's  nigh 

In  Jesus  passing,  passing  by ! 

O  priest,  who  bears  the  God  of  Hosts 

To  scatter  blessings  rare ! 
No  powerful  potentates  of  earth 

In  rank  with  thee  compare ; 
Be  pure  as  snow  on  mountains  high, 
For  you  hold  Jesus,  passing  by ! 


ALICE. 

Dear  girl,  with  sparkling  eyes  aglow, 

Where  merry  laughter's  sunbeams  played, 
With  ruby  lips,  with  cheeks  of  rose. 

With  brow  where  youth  and  beauty  made 
Their  home !    The  big,  wide  world  to  thee 

So  bright  and  happy  ever  seemed ; 
For  naught  but  love  thy  portion  was, 

And  all  its  sunshine  near  thee  streamed ! 

O  radiant  girl!     Sweet  vine  of  love 
That  grew  within  thy  mother's  heart, 

Until  its  tendrils  twined  around 
Its  every  deepest,  sacred  part ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  111 

That  stretched  its  clinging  arms  to  fold 

Across  thy  priestly  brother's  life ! 
'Twas  hard  to  see  death  tear  the  roots 

While  life  with  joy  and  youth  were  rife ! 

'My  Lord  has  need  of  flow'rets  gay," 

('Twas  thus  the  poet  spoke  for  death)  ; 
'And  so  I  reap  the  blossoms  bright, 

The  bearded  grain  at  every  breath ! 
'And  now,"  he  cries,  "I  tore  your  vine 

To  plant  it  where  no  touch  can  kill ; 
The  flower  that  graced  it  while  on  earth, 

In  God's  rich  garden  bloometh  still." 

Sweet  Alice,  with  the  deep,  dark  eyes, 

The  face  where  smiling  beauty  lay, 
To  faith's  clear  sight  thou  art  not  dead, 

Just  gone,  a  little  while,  away! 
The  mother,  brother,  dearly  loved, 

Have  bidden  thee  a  fond  good-night! 
But  O,  the  eternal  God  sent  bliss 

That  waits  the  dawn  of  heaven's  light ! 


THE    BOYS'    HYMN. 

List  the  boyish  voices  ringing 

Clear  and  silvery  through  the  air, 

While  the  burden  of  their  singing 
Is  the  tender,  loving  prayer: 


112  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


"Mother  Mary,  tell  our  Jesus 

That  we  love  Him  fond  and  true, 
And,  O  Mary,  dearest  mother, 
Tell  Him  we  belong  to  you !" 

Sing  they  now  in  life's  fair  morning-, 

In  the  dawning  of  the  day, 
While  the  sun  of  Hope's  rich  promise 

Throws  its  radiance  o'er  their  way. 

We,  who've  known  life's  heat  and  burden. 

Who  have  bowed  beneath  its  care, 
Echo,  while  we  list  their  singing, 

"Mother  Mary,  hear  their  prayer!" 

Save  them  from  the  snares  that  wait  them, 
Guide  them  through  each  devious  way, 

Keep  them  from  the  world  unsullied, 
Hear  them,  heed  them  while  they  pray ! 


MAY. 

Thy  winds  caresses  are ;  skies,  smiles ; 

The  flowers,  thy  treasures  rare ; 
Thy  music  is  the  bird's  clear  note ; 

Thy  robe,  Spring's  vesture  fair. 

Thou  art  a  month  of  promise  rich, 
As  o'er  the  hills  you  stray, 

With  sunny  face,  and  whisper  low 
From  balmy  winds,  O  May! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  113 

We  love  thee  well,  O  days  of  May ! 

Thou'rt  Mary's  very  own ! 
And  nearer,  dearer  does  she  seem 

While  thou  art  on  Spring's  throne ! 


LIFE'S  FLOWERS. 

Along  your  road,  O  dear  old  life, 

The  sweetest  blossoms  grow ! 
I  cannot  cull  one  half  I  see, 

They  bloom  and  cluster  so ! 
In  such  profusion  do  they  lie, 

Their  names  I  cannot  call ; 
I  can  but  stoop  and  gather  fast 

Their  petals  as  they  fall. 

I  do  not  like  to  hear  men  say 

Life's  way  is  choked  with  weeds, 
For  well  I  know  'twas  they  that  sowed 

The  deadly  noxious  seeds. 
Nor  do  I  care  to  hear  them  sigh 

Of  thorns  that  cut  and  tear; 
What  if  they  wound,  when  all  around 

The  roses  scent  the  air? 

The  flowers  of  gentle,  patient  tones, 

Of  words  of  kindly  cheer, 
Of  joyous  laughter,  pleasant  smiles, 

Of  hand-clasps,  warm,  sincere, 
s 


114  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Of  thoughtful,  bliss-producing  deeds, 
Of  loving,  tender  prayer. — 

0  dear  old  life,  these  blossoms  sweet 
Fall  from  you  everywhere ! 

1  lift  them  up  with  gentle  hands. 
The  beauteous  flowers  of  earth — 

The  hours,  the  days,  the  years  that  make 
A  wreath  of  joy  and  mirth ! 

But  O,  'gainst  throbbing,  thankful  heart, 
With  reverent  touch  I  lay 

The  blossoms  rarest,  best  of  all — 
The  friendships  on  Life's  way ! 


THE  DEAD  MOTHER. 

Aye !  weep  as  you  gaze  on  that  lifeless  form, 

On  that  peace-filled  pallid  brow, 
On  the  hands  that  are  laid  o'er  the  pulseless  breast. 

And  the  lips  that  are  silent  now ; 
For  the  noblest,  tenderest  heart  that  beat 

Is  numbered  among  the  dead, 
And  the  sweetest  spirit  that  ever  breathed, 

From  its  dwelling  below  hath  fled. 

Dear,  waxen  hands !     Our  own  no  more 

In  greeting  warm  you'll  hold ; 
And  smiles  of  welcome  ne'er  will  wreathe 

The  lips  now  still  and  cold. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  115 


So  beautiful  in  death  thou  art, 
Like  child  asleep  who  dreams 

He  visits  lands  aglow  with  flowers, 
Green  trees,  and  running  streams. 

Dear,  gentle  one !    In  sunnier  days, 

How  brightly  beamed  thy  smile ; 
And,  when  the  shadows  fell,  it  shone 

With  softer  light  the  while. 
The  heaviest  crosses  on  thee  laid 

Were  meekly  borne,  O  patient  one  ! 
Amid  thy  sorrows'  deepest  shades, 

Arose  the  prayer,  "Thy  will  be  done !" 

'Tis  ended  now,  the  weary  pain ; 

And  gazing  on  thy  placid  brow, 
We  feel,  if  aught  could  break  that  calm, 

Thou  wouldst  not  wish  it  broken  now 
For  surely  thou'lt  awake  to  life 

In  realms  of  light  above, 
To  wear  the  crown  thy  crosses  bought 

From  His  unfailing  love. 

O  tender  blossoms  left  on  earth 

To  breast  life's  storms  alone. 
How  bravely  bend  ye  to  the  task 

Without  a  sigh  or  moan ! 
God  bless  and  keep  you  in  His  love 

Till  Heaven  one  day  can  show 
A  glorious  counterpart  of  "Home," 

So  sadly  wrecked  below ! 


116 


OUR  MOTHER. 

Upon  the  soil  of  Mother  Church, 

What  lovely  blossoms  grow ! 
Each  petal  decked  in  fairest  hues 

That  Nature  can  bestow ! 
They're  sparkling  with  the  dew  of  faith, 

They're  nourished  with  our  prayers, 
And,  strange  to  say,  they're  brightest  when 

We  know  life's  tears  and  cares ! 

Within  the  garden  plot  reserved 

For  Mary,  spotless  queen, 
The  sweetest  blossoms  lift  their  heads 

From  sward  of  living  green. 
She  gives  with  generous,  open  hand 

To  those  who  for  them  pray, 
And  scatters  them  most  lavishly, 

When  shines  the  sun  of  May. 

The  passion-flower  she  twines  around 

Each  wearing,  heavy  cross ; 
With  rose  of  love  she  compensates 

For  every  earthly  loss ; 
Her  snowy  lilies  nestle  near 

The  poor,  repentant  soul ; 
Her  blue-eyed  violets  shyly  plead, 

When  pride  is  in  control. 

For  every  ill,  for  every  grief, 
Our  Mother  holds  a  balm ; 


GARLAND    OF    SONG 


The  flowers  from  out  her  garden  live 
Amid  life's  storm  and  calm. 

O  Mother  dear,  bequeathed  to  us 
From  Calvary's  Cross !  we  pray 

In  life,  in  death,  be  thou  our  own, 
Our  lovely  Queen  of  May ! 


GOD  KNOWETH  ALL. 

Dear  soul !  the  night  of  bitter  woe 

Is  closing  'round  thy  life ! 
Dark,  dark  the  shades  that  compass  thee 

Of  sorrow,  care  and  strife. 
But  through  the  dense  and  lowering  clouds 

A  star  of  beauty  peers, 
And  from  the  darkened  sky,  a  song 

Of  promise  greets  the  ears: — 
"The  heavy,  gloomy  shades  may  fall, 

God  knoweth  all !    God  knoweth  all !" 

The  world  is  beautiful,  dear  soul, 

Its  sunshine  all  is  thine ! 
But  comes  the  bitter  thought  that  round 

Thy  youth    Death's  arm  must  twine. 
That  soon  the  boatman  grim  will  bear 

Thee  o'er  the  silent  deep. 
And  yet  there's  One  who'll  watch  with  Him 

That  peaceful,  dreamless  sleep ; 
The  sun  may  rise,  the  night  may  fall ; 

God  knoweth  all !    God  knoweth  all ! 


118  GARLAND    O  F    SONG 

O,  breathe  it  thro'  the  heart  of  woe, 

This  sweet,  this  blessed  truth ! 
To  struggling  souls,  to  doubting  minds, 

Old  age  and  restless  youth ! 
His  care  is  hovering  o'er  His  own, 

The  God  who  notes  the  sparrow's  fall : 
O  music  filled,  joy-bringing  thought, 

"He  knoweth  all!    He  knoweth  all!" 


HOMESICKNESS. 

Your  city  home  is  grand,  I  know, 

In  all  that  wealth  can  buy, 
Sweet  sounds,  fair  sights  on  every  side, 

Entrance  the  ear  and  eye. 
But  while  you  bid  me  happy  be 

Amid  the  splendors  here, 
My  truant  heart  goes  wandering  back 

To  scenes  more  fondly  dear. 

A  little  vine-embowered  cot 

With  roses  climbing  o'er, 
That  ope  to  hummingbirds  that  flit 

Like  sunbeams  past  the  door. 
The  lawn  where  shade  and  sunshine  lie, 

The  hills  where  breezes  play, 
The  bridge  that  spans  the  brook  that  sings 

Forever  on  its  way. 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  119 


O  treasures  strewn  with  lavish  hands, 

I'd  gladly  you  resign, 
If  once  again  that  dear  old  cot, 

That  long-lost  home  were  mine! 
O  dulcet  tones  now  breathing  'round, 

Once  sweeter  strains  I  knew, 
And  robins  sang  them  o'er  the  lane, 

Where  many  blossoms  grew! 

So,  though  your  mansion  gorgeous  is, 

In  all  that  wealth  can  yield, 
My  yearning  thoughts  go  straying  back 

To  cot  and  lane  and  field; 
And  I  would  give  the  world  to-day 

But  once  again  to  roam 
The  hills,  the  grassy  meadows  wide, 

Around  my  childhood's  home ! 


GOOD-BYE. 

It  speeds  away 

Each  Summer  day, 
Still  brimming  o'er  with  light  and  song; 

And  I  would  stay 

Its  onward  way, 
As  on  Time's  wings  it  flies  along. 

O  sunny  hours 
Of  trees  and  flowers, 
You've  spread  a  feast  of  peace  and  rest ! 


120  GAR  LAND     OF    SONG 

Could  your  repast, 
But  always  last, 
I'd  ever  be  your  happy  guest. 

Where  joys  abound, 
Where  mirth  is  found, 

In  the  quaint  old  house  by  shaded  ways, 
For  me  'twas  there 
Your  treasures  rare 

Were  richly  stored,  O  Summer  days ! 

'Twas  there  the  flowers 

Of  friendship's  bowers 
With  lavish  hands  were  strewn  for  me ; 

Where  the  warm  seeds 

Of  kindest  deeds 
And  words,  became  Love's  faithful  tree. 

O  evening  hours 

Where  silvery  showers 
Streamed  out  from  Luna's  disc  of  light ! 

With  jest  and  song, 

You  sped  along, 
And  left  but  mem'ry  in  your  flight ! 

With  Byron's  hills, 

And  rippling  rills, 
And  valleys  clothed  in  verdure  bright, 

O  Summer  days 

In  mem'ry's  rays, 
You'll  ever  live  in  purest  light ! 


GARLAND     OF    SO  NG  121 


And  while  I  say 

Good-bye  to-day 
To  sylvan  scenes  and  skies  of  blue, 

I  fondly  pray, 

God  bless  for  aye, 
The  friends  I've  found  so  leal  and  true ! 


GOOD  NIGHT! 

Good  night!     Dear,  loyal,  noble  friend, 

The  sunset  hour  is  near! 
You  rest  within  its  golden  rays, 

We  wait  in  shadows  here ! 
We  watch  your  ship  go  sailing  past 

Amid  the  waves  of  light, 
And  stand  on  shore  with  saddened  hearts 

To  waft  you  our  "Good  night !" 

Good  night,  dear  life,  as  guileless  as 

The  snowy,  brooding  dove ; 
As  trusty  as  the  stars  that  shine 

In  matchless  light  above ; 
As  noble  as  the  knight  of  old ; 

As  simple  as  a  child, 
But  wise  in  lore  that  makes  men  saints, 

And  keeps  them  undefined. 

Good  night !  Good  night !  dear  heart,  for  us, 

With  deepest  loving  filled! 
No  more  on  earth  we'll  clasp  the  hands 

Now  crossed,  so  white  and  stilled; 


122  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


No  more  on  earth  those  deep  brown  eyes 

Will  turn  in  love  to  ours ! 
Good  night !    Good  night !   but  not  good-bye  ! 

We  wait  the  morning  hours ! 

Good  night !  God  grant  the  boy  you  loved 

Beyond  all  power  to  tell, 
Has  whispered  on  the  shores  of  day 

"My  father !    All  is  well !" 
Good  night,  my  dear  true  friend,  you've  sailed 

Far  with  life's  ebbing  tide ! 
But  O  the  joy  of  morning's  dawn 

In  Heaven's  harbor  wide ! 


LOVE  IS  BEST. 

A  wond'rous  power,  O  shining  gold! 

Is  lurking  in  your  burnished  face. 
To  yield  to  sense  all  things  desired. 

And  poverty's  dread  shadows  chase. 
But  you  can  never  still  the  moan 

That's  wrung  from  out  a  sorrowing  breast : 
When  suffering  touches  sons  of  Earth, 

Then  "Love  is  best !   Dear  Love  is  best !" 

And  when  the  wayward  restless  soul 
Would  pass  along  forbidden  ways, 

There's  naught  can  wrin  it  back  to  truth 
Like  Love's  sweet  voice  or  Love's  sad  gaze. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  123 


Deprived  of  Love  we  still  could  live ; 

But  life,  how  strange  a  thing  'twould  be ! 
All  drear  and  cold  without  its  smile, 

While  with  it  darkest  shadows  flee 

And,  when  Death's  Angel  hovers  nigh, 

Tis  not  to  wealth  or  power  we'll  turn ; 
The  trembling  soul  will  eager  crave 

That  light  of  Love  beside  it  burn. 
The  Love  of  Earth !  The  Love  of  Heaven ! 

Ah !  he  who  feels  its  might  is  blest — 
For,  since  it  broke  a  heart  divine, 

"Dear  Love  is  best!   Dear  Love  is  best!" 


THE  OLD  BELL. 

Ringing  out  upon  the  stillness 

Peals  the  old  familiar  bell, 
That  so  often  asked  an  entrance 

Into  scenes  I  loved  full  well. 
Memory  now  with  touch  so  skillful, 

Plays  her  sweet  and  tender  note, 
Happy  schooldays,  bright  and  blissful 

On  her  music  wavelets  float ! 

And  once  more  I  list  to  teachings 
From  a  mind  with  wisdom  fraught ; 

Once  again  Religion's  lessons 
By  the  same  dear  lips  I'm  taught. 


124  GARLAND     0  F    SONG 


Merry  jest  and  joyous  laughter 

Ring  anew  in  music  clear ; 
Spirits  light  e'er  dwelt  within  thee, 

Schoolroom  precious,  bright  and  dear! 

But  the  earth  with  bitter  sorrow 

Filled  the  hearts  that  lightest  throbbed ; 
Sunny  hopes  and  aspirations 

Crushed  were  soon,  of  brightness  robbed. 
Still,  the  lessons  learned  while  with  thee, 

Teach  us  where  to  look  for  aid, 
Faith  there  nurtured,  ever  strengthens, 

Love  and  Hope  will  never  fade. 

E'en  though  earth  bestow  her  brightest, 

I  will  ne'er  as  happy  be, 
As  in  days  when  those  I  treasured 

Dwelt  with  me,  dear  school,  in  thee ; 
Other  steps  are  echoing  through  thee, 

Thou  art  now  the  stranger's  home, 
But,  dear  school,  love  will  not  yield  thee, 

Thou'rt  my  own,  where'er  I  roam ! 

O,  my  happy,  happy  school  days ! 

Gone  from  me  forevermore! 
Joys  the  fairest,  hopes  the  brightest, 

Fled  with  thee,  a  glittering  store! 
Other  scenes  may  yet  surround  me, 

Other  friendships  yet  be  mine, 
But,  fond  memory,  like  the  ivy, 

'Round  my  school  days  e'er  shall  twine. 


CARL  AN  D     OF    SONG  125 


Time,  my  love  can  never  weaken, 
They  will  ne'er  less  bright  appear, 

Only  death  the  bond  can  sever, 

School  friends,  schoolroom,  all  so  dear ! 


SISTER  'S  GOLDEN  JUBILEE. 

So  many  years,  my  Jesus  sweet! 

Since  first  I  heard  Thy  call ! 
Through  life's  fair  morn,  and  noon  and  eve, 

Thou  wert  my  own,  my  all ! 

O  precious  day,  my  own  Beloved ! 

That  called  me  close  to  Thee ! 
And  blessings  on  Thee,  Bridegroom  loved, 

That  chose  unworthy  me! 

Time's  chaplet  knew  the  silver  stones, 

And  now  in  gold  it  gleams ! 
While  "Fifty  years  Saint  Vincent's  child," 

All  through  its  radiance  beams ! 

O  dear  Saint  Vincent,  father  blest ! 

Hear  thou  my  prayer  to-day! 
Help  me  in  truth  as  well  as  name 

To  be  thy  "child,"  for  aye. 

And  while  I  walk  life's  sloping  hill, 

While  twilight  shadows  fall, 
Take  thou  my  hand,  O  help  me  keep 

The  graces  of  the  "Call !" 


126  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


TO  THE  VERY  REV.  P.  J.  CONWAY. 

I  knew  a  garden  fair  and  wide, 

Where  blossomed  many  flowers ; 
And  tender  was  the  gardener's  care 

Of  all  its  leafy  bowers. 
His  hand  destroyed  the  noxious  weeds 

That  peeped  above  the  sod, 
And  cherished  every  beauteous  bud, 

Fresh  from  the  love  of  God. 

Within  his  heart,  to  each  bright  flower, 

Of  love  he  gave  a  share ; 
But  there  were  some  fair  blooming  ones 

That  felt  his  tenderest  care : 
The  Lily  with  its  snowy  cup — 

The  Rose  of  regal  grace — 
The  Violet  that  hid  away 

Its  sweet  and  winsome  face. 

Brighter  and  brighter,  day  by  day, 

His  floral  treasures  grew — 
More  fair,  more  pleasing  to  his  eye 

In  number,  strength  and  hue. 
But  soon  a  message  sped  to  him 

That  called  him  from  his  own, 
And  other  hands  now  tend  the  plants 

Whose  seeds  by  him  were  sown. 

Will  those  bright  flowers,  so  well  beloved- 

The  souls  to  him  so  dear — 
Wither  beneath  the  stranger's  care, 

And  lose  their  radiance  clear? 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  127 


Ah,  no !  Our  guide  and  friend  revered, 
Still  strong  and  fair  we'll  bloom, 

Whether  'tis  sunshine  from  on  high, 
Or  leaden  skies  of  gloom ! 

Farewell !  We'll  miss  thy  beaming  smile- 

Thy  greeting  warm  and  true — 
The  ready  sympathy  we  met 

When  clouds  o'ercast  the  blue. 
But  still  we  would  not  stay  thy  course; 

God  keep  thee  in  His  love ! 
Farewell !   We'll  bless  thy  honored  name, 

Until  we  meet  above ! 


RETROSPECTION. 

'Tis  twilight's  dreamy  hour !  I  sit 
Within  the  firelight's  glow, 

And  conjure  up  with  mystic  spell 
The  scenes  of  "Long  Ago!" 

I  see  again  the  schoolroom  loved. 

The  girlish  faces  bright ! 
I  hear  once  more  the  merry  laugh. 

And  tones  from  hearts  as  light 

As  thistledown.     And  now  their  eyes 
Are  fixed  with  earnest  gaze 

Upon  one  face,  the  most  revered 
Of  girlhood's  happy  days. 


128  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

She  leads  us  slowly,  surely  up 

The  hill  of  knowledge  high, 
And  stones  seem  smooth  and  heights  seem  low 

With  her  dear  presence  nigh. 

Our  faith  grows  strong  and  broad  and  deep, 

While  noblest  thoughts  arise, 
As  Sister  points  the  narrow  way 

That  leads  beyond  the  skies. 

And  now  the  loving  eyes  are  turned, 

While  fervent  prayers  ascend, 
Where  tapers  burn  before  the  shrine 

Of  Mary,  Mother,  Friend! 

The  firelight  dies,  the  shadows  fall ; 

The  schoolroom  fades  away; 
O  faces  loved !    or  grave,  or  gay, 

Where  are  ye  all  to-day  ? 

Some,  God's  own  spouses,  labor  on 

Within  His  vineyard  blest, 
And  some,  beneath  the  verdant  sod, 

In  dreamless  slumber  rest ! 

The  years  for  some  most  bitter  draughts, 

For  others,  sweetness  pour, 
But  weal  or  woe  has  never  dimmed 

The  memories  fond  of  yore ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  129 


O  schoolday  joys,  the  purest,  best, 

That  life  can  ever  know ! 
O  girlhood  friends  !     O  teachers  loved  ! 

O  happy  "Long  Ago!" 

We  bless  our  God  you  once  were  ours, 

And  O  we  fondly  pray, 
That  our  dear  Sisters  and  their  girls 

May  meet  in  Heaven  some  day ! 


SUNSET  HOUR. 

Fair  Day  has  climbed  the  hills  of  Eve, 

And  lingers  on  its  height, 
To  flood  the  earth  from  beauty's  fount, 

Ere  comes  the  sombre  night ! 
She  gazes  on  the  waves  of  light 

That  ripple  from  the  sky, 
Then  goes  with  slow,  reluctant  step, 

As  if  so  loath  to  die ! 

When  life's  brief  day  has  reached  the  mount 

Beyond  which  lies  death's  gloom, 
As  earth  recedes,,  will  all  its  joys 

A  fairer  garb  assume? 
Will  the  sweet  love  that  filled  our  souls 

With  bliss  of  Paradise, 
Seem  richer,  rarer,  nobler  far, 

When  sunset  tints  the  skies  ? 

9 


GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Oh !  if  our  own  are  still  on  earth. 

When  life's  night  hours  draw  nigh, 
Be  sure  we'll  turn  to  gaze  on  each 

With  eager,  longing  eye, 
Unless  Faith  whisper  :    Though  the  night 

Is  creeping  on  apace, 
An  endless  dawn  will  see  thee  clasp 

Thy  loved  in  fond  embrace ! 


WHICH  ? 

"I  think,"  said  a  man  whose  snowy  hair, 

Whose  wrinkled  brow  and  faded  eye 
Betrayed  a  near  approach  to  death, 

"That  the  bliss  of  heaven  in  peace  must  lie  ! 
That  we  long  to  reach  its  shores  because 

We'll  never  again  know  care  or  toil, 
But  rest  in  His  arms  through  endless  days, 

Away  from  all  sounds  of  earth's  turmoil." 

"I  think,"  said  a  youth  with  flashing  orbs, 

And  a  form  erect  in  strong  young  pride, 
"That  we  yearn  to  go  to  our  God  because 
In  His  Heart  we  shall  all  be  satisfied! 
No  more  will  we  know  the  longing  for  love 

For  a  joy,  for  a  fame  we  ne'er  can  reach, 

Like  the  waves  that  are  striving  far  out  at  sea, 

But  can  never  caress  the  shining  beach  !" 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  131 


'I  think,"  said  a  winsome,  blue-eyed  girl, 

"We  wish  to  fly  beyond  the  skies, 
That  we  may  drain  to  its  deepest  depths 

The  cup  of  loving  in  Paradise ! 
He  will  press  us  close  to  His  tender  Heart 

The  souls  that  are  joined  with  Him  above, 
And  I  know  that  heaven  is  heaven  because 

'Tis  filled  with  the  sweets  of  a  boundless  love !" 


GOLDEN   WEDDING. 

June,  the  month  of  roses ! 

June,  the  Summer's  queen ! 
June,  the  fairest  jewel 

In  year's  chaplet  seen ! 

June,  so  lovely,  winsome, 
Even  the  Heart  Divine 

Lets  His  creatures  offer 
It  before  His  shrine! 

'Fifty  years  together!" 
So  June  sings  to-day! 

Surely  God's  sweet  blessing 
Rested  on  your  way! 

With  your  children's  children 
Gathered  'round  your  side, 

And  with  hearts  as  loyal, 
As  when  groom  and  bride ! 


132  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Let  me  send  my  greetings 
In  this  month  of  flowers ; 

May  God's  choicest  blessings 
Fill  the  coming  hours ! 

May  the  "golden"  jewel 
With  its  glimmering  light 

Yield  in  distant  future 

Place  to  "diamond"  bright. 


THE  LEAF. 

A  leaf  that  had  clung  to  a  poplar  tree 

All  through  the  Summer  fair, 
Fluttered  to  earth  one  Autumn  day, 
And  as  it  slowly  withered  away, 
This  was  its  wistful  prayer : 

"Dear  tree,  would  I  could  cling  to  thee 

Once  more  before  I  die ! 
I'd  tell  thee  of  the  love  that  rilled 
My  heart,  and  through  my  being  thrilled 
In  happy  days  gone  by. 

"While  thy  protecting  arms  were  near, 

My  voice  was  ever  dumb; 
Now  'tis  too  late  for  thee  to  hear 
The  songs  of  love  so  sweet  and  clear — 
In  death  the  power  is  numb." 


GARLANDOFSONG  133 


Ah !  many  a  life  at  its  fading  away, 

As  the  dying  leaf  will  feel, 
As  the  pang  of  a  love  but  half  confessed, 
Of  a  feeling  of  gratitude  half  expressed, 

All  through  the  soul  will  steal. 

And  the  thought  of  the  tender  words  ne'er  said, 

Caresses  e'er  denied, 
That  our  well  beloved  so  longed  to  know, 
Will  surge  through  the  soul  in  streams  of  woe, 

A  fierce,  o'ermastering  tide ! 


TO  SISTER  MARY:  DAUGHTER  OF  CHARITY 
OF  ST.  VINCENT  DE  PAUL. 

Sleep !  Sleep !  my  beloved !  For  thou'rt  wearied  at  last 
By  the  Cross  thou  hast  borne  through  the  years  of  the 

past! 

Rest,  rest,  my  own  Spouse !  In  the  arms  of  my  Love, 
And  awake  but  to  glory  and  beauty  above! 

The  summons  has  come  from  the  mansion  of  light, 
The  voice  of  the  Bridegroom  is  heard  in  the  night, 
The  music  of  Heaven  is  borne  deep  within, 
And  stills  earthly  discords,  its  pain  and  its  din. 

Thou'rt  gone,  and  the  world  seems  to  grow  strangely 

drear 

To  the  hearts  that  have  loved  thee  for  many  a  year ! 
Thou'rt  gone  and  the  grief  of  thy  children  is  deep, 
As  they  gaze  on  thee   now,  in  thy  last  peaceful  sleep. 


134  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


Wise  head,  that  directed  and  governed  in  Love ! 
Kind  heart,  whose  sweet  Charity  blossomed  above ! 
Pure  soul,  of  whose  beauty  but  Jesus  can  tell! 
O,  how  can  we  whisper  to  these,  our  farewell ! 

Farewell  to  the  life  that  was  one  strain  of  song, 
Whose  notes  fell  like  silver,  so  pure  and  so  strong ! 
For  the  Angels  have  listened,  have  pleaded,  and  lo ! 
"Tis  heard  past  the  skies,  and  'tis  ended  below ! 

Ended  ?    Ah,  no !  it  is  breathing  around 
And  hushing  the  wail  of  the  "Requiem"  sound ! 
Tis  soaring  aloft  in  the  "Gloria's"  notes, 
While  Sister's  loved  spirit  o'er  all  of  us  floats. 

O,  beautiful  life  and  beautiful  rest, 
Near  the  altar  of  Him  thy  true  heart  loved  the  best! 
For  Him  didst  thou  live,  didst  thou  suffer  and  die, 
Thou  gavest  Him  all  and  now  Heaven  is  nigh. 

Dear  friend  of  our  childhood !  thy  memory  will  rest 
For  aye  with  the  ones  thy  pure  lifetime  has  blest! 
Plead  for  the  Sisters  and  child  of  thy  love, 
Plead  for  us  all  with  the  Savior  above ! 

Ah,  well,  dear  companions !  The  battle's  not  long, 
Let  grief  be  subdued  by  the  Faith  that  is  strong ; 
And  patience,  my  Sisters !  she'll  meet  you  one  day 
Where  Love  knows  no  sunset  or  dimming  of  ray ! 


GARLAND     OF    SON  G  135 


GOD'S  WISDOM. 

If  the  Father  had  set  the  fair  crown  of  each  life 
With  naught  but  Joy's  diamonds  and  gold, 

How  much  that  is  noble,  and  tender,  and  sweet, 
Would  we  miss  in  a  world  strangely  cold ! 

If  we  never  had  wept  in  our  passionate  grief 
O'er  the  form  of  the  loved,  gone  from  earth, 

Could    we    light   the    fair  lamp    that  would  shed    its 

bright   ray 
Thro'  the  soul  where  the  shadows  had  birth. 

If  we  never  had  shrunk,  in  our  quivering  pain, 

When  cut  by  a  look  or  a  word, 
When  passion  was  roused,  'mid  its  tumult  and  din, 

Could   sweet,  patient  meekness   be  heard? 

If  "good-byes"  never  brought  us  their   dumb,   bitter 
pain, 

If  our  hearts'  idols  always  were  near, 
Our  God  we'd  forget,  and  the  soul's  destined  Home, 

While  forever  we'd  wish  to  be  here. 

If  we  never  had  struggled  and  lost  in  the  fight, 

If  our  natures  were  easily  tamed, 
Would  we  stretch  helping  hands  to  the  brother  that 
erred, 

Would  we  pity  when  others  but  blamed? 

Ah,  no !  if  the  sword  never  entered  our  hearts, 
If  the  tears  ne'er  bedewed  our  own  eyes, 

But  little  we'd  care  for  another's  dark  life, 
While  sunshine  lit  up  our  own  skies. 


136  GAR  LAND     OF    SONG 


And  so  the  wise  Father  besprinkles  each  crown, 

With  pearls,  whether  many  or  few, 
They're  the  teardrops  that   fall   and  awake   into  life, 

The  gems  that  are  fairest  to  view. 

Then   bless   Him,   and   praise  Him,  the   all   knowing 
God, 

That  sends  us  the  crosses  we  need, 
For  He  sees,  with  the  eyes  of  His  merciful  Love, 

Our  hearts  will  be  His  if  thev  bleed! 


LINES. 

O  happy  soul !     O  happy  soul ! 

How  blest,  how  blest  thou  art, 
Through  all  the   din,  to  hear  the  call 

That  binds  thee   to   His   Heart! 
To  know,  those  lovely  wounded  Hands, 

Since  life  awoke   for  thee, 
Outstretched  have  been,  to  lead  thee  on, 

"His  own  beloved"  to  be ! 

O,  sweet  the  love  that  earth  can  yield, 

But  then  it  knows  decay; 
And  sweet  the  joys  that  live  in  life, 

Yet  they,  too,   fade  away. 
But  thou  hast  found,  in  His  dear  Heart, 

Unfailing  joy    and    love. 
O,  happiness  begun  on   earth 

To  live  for  aye  above ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  137 


Ah !  down  in  that  deep  wound  of  Love, 

You've  placed  your   vows    sincere, 
To  hold  the  poor  and  lowly  hearts 

As  he  e'er  held  them — dear. 
As  "He  was  subject"  thou  wilt  be, 

His  voice  thou'lt  ever  hear, 
And  in  thy  soul  sweet  chastity 

Will   steadfast  beam,  and   clear. 

O,  happy  one !     O,  happy  one ! 

Our  Jesus'  spouse  to  be ! 
The  angels  bend  in   wondering   love 

To  feast  their  eyes  on  thee. 
O,  keep  undimmed  the   Bridegroom's  crown 

That's    beaming   on    your    brow, 
Until  you  gaze  upon  that  Heart 

That  won  your  virgin  vow. 


THE    BRIDEGROOM'S    CALL. 

"Arise,  my  Beloved !"    'Tis  the  Bridegroom  that  calls, 
He  longs  for  His  Spouse,  in  His  heavenly  halls! 
A  smile  lights  her  face  as  the  sun  lights  the  west ! 
The  Rose  of  Columba's  is  gone  to  her  rest ! 

The  Cross  was  borne  bravely,  the  Crown  is  now  won. 
She  hears  from  her  Master  His  loving  "Well  done." 
Thrice  nobly  she  toiled  in  His  field  till  the  last, 
And  Death  had  no  terrors  when  life's  day  was  past. 


138  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


None  know  but  to  love  her,  and  many  a  tear 
Falls  hot  on  the  casket  of  her  they  hold  dear. 
Aye !   even  the  stranger   will   feel   the   drop  start 
As  he  lists  to  the  tale  of  her  warm,  noble  heart. 

O,  soul  that  was  noble  and  earnest  and  kind ! 

O,  life  where  the  rarest  of  virtues  we  find! 

O,  mind  ever  pure  as  the  white  lily-flower! 

How  sadly  they'll  miss  you,  each  day  and  each  hour ! 

Thy  children,  whose  tears  fall  so  fast  on  thy  grave, 
Will  miss  the  loved  teacher,  that  to  them  oft  gave 
The  lessons  of  wisdom,  of  virtue  and  love, 
That  fitted  for  earth  and  for  Heaven  above. 

Thy  Sisters !  Ah !  well  may  they  weep  for  thee  now, 
As  they  press  the  last  kiss  on  thy  cold,  pallid  brow, 
For  never  again  will  Columba's  own  bower 
Be  graced  by  a  Rose  like  its  transplanted  flower. 

But  not  for  her,  Sisters,  should  "Requiems"  moan — 
Let  rather  "Te  Deum"  burst  forth  its  grand  tone. 
Her  spirit,  too  noble,  through  earth's  walks  to  roam, 
Now  basks  in  the  sunshine  of  God's  blessed  Home ! 

O,  Daughter  of  Vincent !  thrice  happy  and  blest, 
At  the  feet  of  thy  Father  to  peacefully  rest 
And  wait,  while  thy  hymn  with  the  seraphs  ascends, 
Till   the   message   speeds  forth  to  thy  loving  earth- 
friends. 


GAR  LAND     OF    SONG  139 


Till,  while  in  each  bosom  love's  light  purely  glows, 
In  Heaven  they'll  greet  thee,  their  own  Sister  Rose ! 
Ah !  then  with  such  joy  will  the  meeting  be  fraught 
They'll   forget  the  deep  pain  that  the  parting  hours 
brought ! 


OCTOBER. 

"O  what  is  so  rare  as  a  day  in  June !" 

Excepting  a  day  in  October! 
When  breezes  are  singing  a  requiem  strain 
As  brimming  with  sweetness  as  'tis  with  pain, 

A  sigh  for  the  days  that  are  over! 

Oh,  these  are  the  hours  I  long  to  roam 
The  woods  and  the  vales  of  Byron! 
To  list  while  the  music  from  feathered  throats 
Is  gushing  and  pouring  in  silvery  notes 
More  sweet  than  the  songs  of  a  siren. 

To  tread  on  a  carpet  deep  with  leaves 

All  tinted  with  Autumn  glory, 
And  read  in  each  leaf  of  changing  light, 
So  russet  and  red,  so  golden  and  bright, 

Of  life  and  of  death  the  story! 

The  tree  is  the  life,  and  the  leaves  the  joys 

That  cluster  and  blossom  beside  it ; 
But  they  slip  from  our  grasp  as  the  days  go  by 
And  the  scar  that  remains  as  away  they  fly. 
Ah !  we  do  our  best  to  hide  it. 


140  GARLAND     OF    SO  NG 


But  when  o'er  the  scars  a  new  joy  grows, 

The  world  to  our  eyes  seems  fairer; 
And  thus  do  we  live,  while  each  brief  day 
That  flies  to  our  lives  on  its  onward  way, 
Is  a  joy  or  a  sorrow  bearer. 

Till  at  length  life's  tree  sees  its  strength  depart, 

Sees  the  last  of  its  joys  or  sorrow; 
And  is  glad  to  gaze  upon  Death's  stern  face, 
To  feel,  while  it  yields  to  its  close  embrace, 
'Twill  never  know  earth's  to-morrow ! 


ONE  DAY. 

O'er  a  golden  field  near  a  silvery  lake, 

With  the  emerald  isles  between; 
O'er  the  yellow  grain  and  the  buckwheat  white, 

And  the  meadows  deeply  green ; 

O'er  the  woods  where  the  leaves  of  the  oak  and  the 
elm 

Bend  low  as  the  winds  go  by, 
Where  the  wild  flowers  peep  from  the  velvet  sward 

And  the  streamlet  ripples  by; 

Where  the  notes  of  the  birds  and  the  songs  of  the 
brook 

And  the  hum  of  the  busy  bee, 
With  the  softened  sounds  from  the  fields  afar, 

Are  all  that  are  borne  to  me, 


G  ARLAN  D     OF    SON  G  141 


I  gaze,  while  a  cloudless  sky  smiles  o'er 

The  beautiful,  peaceful  scene, 
And  never,  I  know,  were  treasures  as  rich 

Spread  out  before  king  or  queen. 

The  world  may  come  with  its  dreams  of  fame, 

Of  wealth  and  of  deepest  bliss, 
But  never  a  joy  in  its  storehouse  vast, 

Compares  with  a  day  like  this ! 

O,  the  sweetest  songs  that  were  ever  sung, 

Ring  over  the  farm  to-day! 
And  the  sweetest  tales  that  were  ever  told, 

Are  heard  while  the  breezes  play ! 

And  this  grand  old  earth  seems  the  fairest  spot 

That  mortal  heart  may  know, 
While  the  soul  o'erflows  with  a  grateful  love 

To  the  God  that  made  it  so. 


NO  SPOT  IN  THEE. 

Spotless  spouse  of  holy  Joseph, 

Lily  of  the  scented  May, 
From  our  hearts  we  fondly  greet  thee, 

Macula  non  est  in  te! 

Sorrow's  thorns  so  often  wound  us, 
Thou  can'st  take  the  sting  away, 

Mother  Mary,  ever  tender! 
Macula  non  est  in  te! 


142  GARLAND    OF    SON  G 


Clouds  of  doubt  oft  times  surround  us, 
Truth's  clear  sunbeams  near  thee  play, 

Thou  hast  never,  never  failed  us, 
Macula  non  est  in  te ! 

Weak  and  sinning,  but  presuming 
On  thy  love,  to  thee  we  pray, — 

Wash  us  in  the  fount  of  mercy, 
Macula  non  est  in  te ! 

When  Death's  angel  drops  the  curtain 

On  life's  ever-varied  play, 
Mother,  to  our  souls  O  whisper, — 

Macula  non  est  in  te! 


MISSED. 

"He  was  old,"  you  say.     I  know  it, 
Beyond  "threescore  and  ten," 

Beyond  the   span  allotted 
By  psalmist  unto  men. 

"His  life  work  done;"  well,  maybe, 

If  labor's  all   of  life, 
Though  ofttimes  sweeter  blessings 

Are  born  in  rest  than  strife. 

'Twas  thus  with  him,  sojourning 

Within  the  vale  of  age, 
With  undimmed  vision  scanning 

Life's  closely  written  page. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  143 


His  was  no  wondrous  learning, 
Yet  though  not  seer  nor  sage, 

He  taught  the  fullest  lessons 
From  off  that  finished  page. 

For  writ  thereon  so  clearly 
Were  trust  in  human  kind ; 

Fidelity   to   friendships 
Around  his  heartstrings   twined. 

A  charity  for  sinners ; 

In   God  a    faith   sublime; 
A  nature  all  unsullied, 

Untouched   by   frosts  of  time. 

And  this  is  why  we  miss  him 
Asleep  beneath  the  sod, 

White-haired  but  sunny-hearted, 
"The  noblest  work  of  God." 


THE  HUMBLE  POET. 

The  rare  exotic's  beauty  rich 

Can  dazzle  every  eye — 
But  sweet  and  tender  are  the  thoughts 

That  come  with  violets  shy. 

The  ocean  in  its  vast  expanse 

Sends  through  the  soul  a  thrill — 

But  streamlets  o'er  the  woodland  ways 
Our  hearts  with  music  fill. 


144  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


The  storm-clouds   sailing,   rolling  on, 
Are  grand  in  power  and  might — 

But  O,  we  love  the  feathery  clouds 
That  float  through  skies  of  light ! 

Our  minds  are  raised  to  heights  sublime, 

Near  peaks  all  robed  in  snow — 
But  rest  and  peace  are  in  the  vale 

That  nestles   far  below ! 

To  music  of  the  masters  old, 
Minds    send  responsive    chords ; 

But  hearts  are  touched  when  from  the  trees 
Ring  out  the  songs  of  birds. 

The  humble  poet's  flowers  of  song 

Are   blooming  everywhere ; 
Mayhap  they'll  soothe,  as  once  they  did, 

Some  restless  "pulse  of  care." 

Then  though  you  never  reach  the  "heights," 

Sing  on  the  lowly  way! 
Some  hearts  may  cull  your  blossoms  pure, 

And  twine  a  sweet  bouquet. 


SUNSET. 

A  golden  lake  where  dark  ships  lie 

At  rest !    An  amethyst  shore 
With  castles  grand,  whose  sapphire  towers 

Far  in  the  distance  soar ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  145 

A  glowing,  glorious  ball  of  fire 

That  slowly  sinks  from  sight, 
While  earth  and  air,  and  sea  and  sky 

Lie  chained  in  beauty's  might ! 

The  robin  in  the  elm  sends  forth 

A  tiny  stream  of  song: 
"Praise  God  !    Praise  God  !"  the  wavelets  say, 

As  still  they  float  along. 

The  cheery  whistle  o'er  the  farm, 

From  those  whose  toil  is  done, 
Seems  trilling  forth  a  strain  of  praise 

To  Him  who  rules  the  sun. 

Down,  down  it  sinks  !    The  castles  fall, 

The  shores  recede  from  sight ! 
The  moon  appears,  with  starry  train, 

Majestic  queen  of  night! 


WHY. 

Why  do  I  love  to  ramble  alone 

Through  the  mossy  wood  and  the  shady  lane? 
Because  the  songs  that  are  sung  therein, 

Awake  in  my  heart  an  answering  strain. 
Let  me  whisper  the  notes  I  hear, 

All  but  the  ones  too  sweet  to  tell, 
Wondering  if  they'll  impart  to  you 

The  peace  they  have  taught  to  me  so  well ! 
10 


146  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  little  flower  near  the  hanging  rock 

Perfumes  the  air  by  the  wayside  walk ; 
But  few  can  see  the  pretty  head 

That  droops  so  low  on  the  tender  stalk, 
Hidden  from  all  in  sweet  content, 

Caring  naught  for  admiring  gaze, 
Only  grateful  that  life  is  spent 

In  scattering  sweets  o'er  the  shady  ways ! 

Away  in  the  branches  the  birdies  build 

Their  cunningly  woven  nest, 
But  the  storms  arise  and  their  home  is  torn 

From  the  oak  tree's  sheltering  breast! 
And  now  with  a  patient,  cheerful  chirp 

The  birds  their  work  renew, 
And  stronger  weave  and  firmer  bind 

The  nest  the  winds  o'erthrew ! 

The  bee  comes  buzzing  to  the  rose 

To  steal  its  honey  sweet, 
Unmindful  other  bees  have  borne 

The  spoils  he  hoped  to  greet ; 
Undaunted,  towards  the  thistle-cup 

He  flies,  rich  stores  to  see, 
The  rough  outside  a  treasure  veils 

And  this  he  knows,  wise  bee ! 

The  sunset  dips  its  brush  and  paints 
The  trees,  the  flowers,  the  sky, 

And  writes,  "If  earth  so  lovely  seem, 
What  beauties  past  it  lie! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  147 


And  if  my  hour  can  bathe  the  soul 

In  such  a  stream  of  peace, 
Think  what  must  be  the  bliss  beyond, 

Where  rest  and  joy  ne'er  cease !" 

Now,  do  you  know  why  I  ramble  alone 

Through  the  mossy  wood  and  the  shady  lane  ? 
The  songs  that  are  sung  do  you  understand, 

Do  they  wake  in  you  the  same  answering  strain  ? 
O  listen  with  me  to  Nature's  songs 

And  learn  the  lessons  sweet  they  tell, 
May  they  bring  to  you  as  they've  brought  to  me, 

The  peace  and  the  joy  they  teach  so  well ! 


JUNE. 

June,  the  queen  of  Summer's  land, 
Flowery  scepter  in  thy  hand, 
Crown  of  beauty  on  thy  brow, 
Fairest  of  them  all  art  thou ! 

All  thy  blossoms  seem  to  bloom, 
Sending  out  their  rich  perfume, 
All  thy  radiance  seems  to  shine 
For  the  Sacred  Heart  divine! 

Jesus,  with  Thy  arms  outspread, 
Sacred  Heart,  Thy  last  drop  shed, 
Grant  like  June  our  lives  may  be 
Consecrated  all  to  Thee ! 


148  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


ASLEEP. 

"One  by  one  the  dear  old  faces 

Vanish  o'er  the  sunset  hill !" 
Work  is  done,  the  harvest  gathered, 

And  the  toil-worn  hands  are  still ! 
Life's  strong  tree  lies  prone  and  leafless, 

But  its  fruits  are  stored  above, 
And  the  soul  that  made  its  beauty 

Rests  within  a  Heart  of  love ! 

Nature's  nobleman,  we  greet  thee ; 

Ended  now  is  life's  long  fight; 
Gentle,  honest,   kindly-hearted, 

Thou  didst  ever  seek  the  right! 
Sturdy  type  of  old-school  virtue, 

Scorning  what  was  mean  or  base, 
Holding  high  the  stainless  record 

Of  an  ancient,  honored  race. 

While  life's  evening  bells  were  tolling, 

And  the  shadows  slowly  fell, 
"Ave's"  music  floated  'round  thee 

From  the  rosary  loved  so  well. 
God's  anointed  whispered  blessings, 

Cherished  children  knelt  beside, 
Peace  and  prayer  and  love  wrere  with  thee 

At  the  ebbing-  of  the  tide. 

"One  by  one,  the  dear  old  faces 

Vanish  o'er  the  sunset  hill," 
But  the  memory  of  their  virtues 

Is  abiding  with  us  still ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  149 


No  "good-byes"  may  Faith's  lips  utter, 
"Rest  in  peace,"  we  fondly  pray ; 

For  the  night  that  follows  sunset 
Breaks  at  last  in  perfect  day ! 


TO  MY  DEAR  FRIEND  MRS.  J.  H . 

There's  a  sobbing  strain  that  is  borne  along 

On  the  balmy  breeze  of  May ; 
There's  a  wailing  note  that  is  floating  'round 

For  the  heart  that's  still  to-day, 
For  the  husband  loved,  for  the  father  dear, 

For  the  home  that's  saddened  now, 
For  the  hopes  that  died,  for  the  joys  that  fled, 

When  the  Death  King  touched  his  brow. 

Ah !  the  grass  will  grow,  and  the  skies  will  smile, 

And  the  blossoms  bud  and  bloom ! 
But  the  warm  hand  clasp  and  the  cheery  tone 

Are  hid  in  the  silent  tomb! 
Then  sigh  and  sob  for  the  aching  heart 

That  bends  o'er  his  verdant  bed, 
For  Jesus  wept  o'er  His  friend  beloved, — 

His  Lazarus — lying  dead ! 

But  hark !     Is  that  a  requiem  hymn  ? 

That  softened  tender  strain 
That  floats  and  falls  as  rose  leaves  drop? 

That  soothes  the  bitter  pain? 


150  CARL  AND    OF    SONG 

It  stills  the  storm  as  long  ago 
He  calmed  the  raging  sea ; 

Tis  "Nearer,  O  my  God !  to  Thee ! 
Nearer  to  Thee !" 

Nearer  to  Thy  tender  Heart, 

There  let  him  rest ! 
Clasp  him  in  Thy  loving  arms, 

Thou  knowest  best! 
O'er  my  lonely  darkened  way 

Send  Hope's  lambent  light ! 
Help  our  little  ones  to  walk 

In  the  path  of  right ! 
Let  him  with  our  baby  girl 

Wait  beside  the  Throne 
Till  the  pearly  gates  are  oped, 

And  we  meet  "our  own !" 


THE  REASON. 

"Sing  on,  my  soul,  the  glittering  goal 

By  distance  brighter  seems ! 
Work  on !   Work  on  !   'Twill  soon  be  won, 

The  castle  of  thy  dreams !" 

He  sings  away  thro'  youth's  short  day, 

'Till  Age  full  soon  appears, 
His  struggles  past,  he's  crowned  at  last 

Where  Fame  her  castle  rears ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  151 


Thro'  marble  halls,  by  gilded  walls, 

He  treads  with  pensive  air, 
By  light  subdued  is  keenly  viewed 

The  beauty  everywhere. 

Yes,  yes !  'tis  bright  and  full  of  light, 

Yet  much  is  wanting  still, 
Far  more  than  this  must  come  e'er  bliss 

His  yearning  soul  can  fill. 

He  steals  away  where  Nature's  lay 

Is  heard  from  morn  till  night, 
Where  brooklets  flow,  where  blossoms  grow, 

Where  Peace  sheds  chastened  light. 

And  borne  along  upon  their  song, 

He  hears  with  quick  surprise : 
"They  build  too  low  who  build  below 

God's  grand  enduring  skies !" 


UNDYING. 

They  say  those  glad  days  all  have  vanished, 

Their  chimes  full  of  sweetness  and  peace, 
Borne  far,  far  away  into  silence, 

Evermore,  evermore,  now  must  cease. 
And  'tis  wrong  to  sit  eagerly  listening 

To  yearn  for  their  blithe,  happy  sound, 
For  they're  dead  and  the  bells  of  stern  duty, 

Are  ringing  its  vot'ries  around. 


152  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

We  go ;  but  oh !  say  not  those  chimings 

Forever  are  stilled  in  this  life! 
Hear  you  not,  hear  you  not  their  own  echoes 

Ringing  clear,  mounting  high  o'er  the  strife. 
O,  chimes  ever  hallowed  and  precious, 

Loved  music  of  fair  golden  days, 
Till  death  still  our  senses  we'll  list  you, 

Above  all  the  din  hear  your  lays ! 

Then,  think  not  they're  dead  or  e'en  sleeping, — 

They're  living  and  breathing  for  aye 
In  music  'tis  true,  sadly  tender, 

But  ah !  would  we  change  for  the  gay  ? 
Ring  clear,  for  life's  burdens  are  heavy, 

Chime  on,  till  its  worries  are  past ! 
And  safe  in  the  arms  of  the  Savior 

Come  Peace  and  Contentment  at  last ! 


THE  FAVORED  ONE. 

On  ivied  porch,  a  gladsome  sight, 

Mother  and  children  fair. 
Two  blithe  boys,  one  gentle  girl, 

With  sun-kissed  golden  hair. 

I  wonder  which  of  the  happy  three 
Shares  most  of  Mother's  heart. 

You  know  ?    Then  tell  me  e'er  the  four 
From  yonder  porch   depart. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  153 

"I've  asked  the  self-same  question,  friend 

That  you've  just  put  to  me, 
And  what  she  answered  at  the  time, 
I  will  impart  to  thee." 

"Which  of  the  three  I  love  the  best?" 

She  said,  while  to  her  eyes 
Uprose  a  sadly  wistful  look 
I  met  with  some  surprise. 

"The  favored  one  you  wish  to  know? 

That  would  be  hard  to  tell ; 
I  love  as  only  mothers  can, 
My  Percy,  Will  and  Nell. 

"But  there's  another  far  away, 
The  brightest,  merriest  one, 
With  laughing  eyes  and  nut-brown  hair 
Unlike  their  locks  of  sun. 

"He  was  so  restless,  e'en  my  love 

His  longings  could  not  fill, 
He  turned  him  from  his  boyhood's  home, 
O,  heart  of  mine  be  still ! 

"He  was  not  gentle  like  the  rest, 
My  proud  and  headstrong  boy, 
He  gave  me  pain  and  cost  me  tears, 
While  they  give  naught  but  joy. 


154  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


"Yet  thro'  the  darkness  of  the  night, 

The  brightness  of  the  day, 
I  miss  the  'flower  of  all  the  flock,' 
The  boy  that  roamed  away. 

"For,  O,  I  love  my  wanderer  best ! 
God  bring  him  home  some  day, 
Child  of  my  prayers,  child  of  my  tears, 
Child  of  my  heart  for  aye !" 


DAY  IS  DONE. 

Rest,  gentle  mother,  sweetly  rest, 

Within  the  Sacred  Heart! 
For  in  the  Master's  vineyard  wide 

Full  well  thou  didst  thy  part ! 

From  dawn  till  vespers'  twilight  hour, 
Aye,  till  the  night  drooped  down, 

Thou  toiled  and  prayed  and  nobly  strove, 
Now  comes  the  victor's  crown ! 

A  gentle,  tender,  patient  heart, 

A  faith  as  mountains  high, 
An  unassuming,  pure,  sweet  life, 

Now  "Home"  beyond  the  sky! 

Those  precious  to  thy  mother  heart 
Are  now  God's  spouses  dear, 

O,  may  each  be  within  thy  crown 
A  gem  of  radiance  clear! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  155 

Rest,  gentle  mother,  day  is  done ! 

The  ripened  grain  is  bound ! 
The  Angels'  strains  of  "Harvest  Home!" 

Through  God's  dear  land  resound ! 


TO  GRACE. 

Our  Grace  is  dead !     Life's  lovely  flower  has  closed 
Its  petals  fair !    The  sweet-toned  voice  is  still ! 
The  eyes  that  mirrored  forth  a  soul  all  white, 
Are  closed !    The  gentle  heart  that  ever  throbbed 
With  pity  for  the  poor  and  lowly  ones 
Is  quiet  now !     Not  e'en  the  father's  deep 
O'ermastering   love   could   match   thee,    Death,   when 

thou 

Didst  wrest  from  him  the  strongest  tie  that  bound 
Him  unto  earth  !     Grace  !     Well  they  named  thee  so  ! 
Thou  surely  wert  God's  own  sweet  Grace, 
A  blessing  fair  to  home  and  friends!  a  flower 
That  shed  the  odors  rare  of  kindliness, 
Of  gentle  deeds  and  words,  that  made  life's  vale 
A  lovely  spot !    So  patient,  noble,  true, 
'Tis  bitter  hard  to  give  thee  up,  but  yet, 
'Tis  God  who  claims  thee !     In  his  home,  dear  Grace, 
Thou'lt  know  the  joy  eternal,  and,  some  day, 
Around  thy  father  loved  wilt  twine  thy  arms, 
And  there,  no  Angel  Death  can  enter  in 
To  break  the  ties  that  bind  him  to  his  own ! 


156  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


FEAST  OF  THE  SACRED  HEART. 

We  greet  thee  with  rapture,  we  hail  thee  with  joy, 

O,  happy,  O,  thrice  blessed  day! 
The  feast  of  our  Jesus,  the  feast  of  our  God, 

Of  love  that  will  ne'er  pass  away ! 

O,  Heart  ever  human,  yet  ever  divine, 

The  center  of  glory  and  might! 
Heart  pierced  with  the  lance  of  an  undying  love, 

And  broken  on  Calvary's  height ! 

O,  Heart  that  can  brighten  with  fairest  of  flowers 

The  dreariest,  gloomiest  ways ! 
And  make  e'en  the  sun  of  prosperity's  hours 

Cast  clearer,  more  beautiful  rays ! 

O,  Heart  ever  guiding  the  just  in  the  way 

That  leads  them  to  Heaven  above, 
Ever  seeking  the  poor,  straying  sheep  of  thy  flock 

With  tender  and  sorrowful  love! 

O,  Heart  of  our  Jesus,  our  Lord  and  our  God ! 

What  gifts  shall  we  offer  to-day? 
Thy  hearts,  my  own  children !  Yield  them  unto  me, 

And  nevermore  take  them  away! 

Yes  !  Yes  !  sweetest  Jesus,  we  willingly  hide 
Them  deep  in  the  depths  of  Thy  Heart! 

May  they  Love  Thee  for  aye  and  all  others  in  Thee, 
Till  life  and  things  earthly  depart! 


GARLAND    OF    SO  NG  157 

And  then  may  we  soar  far  away  to  Thy  arms, 

In  Thy  beauty  forever  have  part, 
Be  sharers  for  aye  in  Thy  glorious  Home, — 

O,  grant  it,  dear  beautiful  Heart ! 


ABSENT. 

Gently  creeping,  softly  stealing, 

Shades  of  night  come  clustering  round, 

Opening  founts  of  thought  and  feeling, 
Stilling  labor's  busy  sound. 

Wintry  winds  without  are  blowing. 
Stars  o'erhead  their  vigils  keep, 

Fires  within  are  warmly  glowing, 
Shadows  lengthen  as  they  creep. 

Bright  the  fireside  looks  and  cheery 
As  our  band  now  gathers  there, 

But  our  hearts  are  sad  and  dreary, 
We  behold  one  "vacant  chair." 

One  we  miss  from  out  the  circle, 
Miss  his  ready  wit  and  song, 

Miss  the  eyes  that  used  to  sparkle 
Brightest  of  the  family  throng. 

Aye,  our  "bonny  boy"  we  miss  thee, 
Miss  thee,  morning,  noon  and  eve, 

Hearts  are  yearning  to  caress  thee, 
Home  is  waiting  to  receive. 


158 


May  the  wintry  breezes  blowing, 
Waft  to  thee  our  love  sincere, 

May  the  stars  above  the  glowing, 
Whisper  low  our  earnest  prayer: — 

That  the  Angel  spirits  'round  thee 
May  protect  from  harm  to-night, 

And  if  darkened  clouds  surround  thee, 
Help  thee  see  the  silvery  light! 


TO  A  DEAR  FRIEND. 

Far,  far  away  from  the  dear  old  home 

She   lies  asleep ! 
The  Cross  is  dropped,  the  Crown  is  won, 

God  now  will  keep 
Forevermore    within  His    Heart 

This   faithful  soul ; 
At  rest  within   His  peaceful   home 

While  ages  roll ! 

So  faithful  to  the  Master's  work 

Through  toilsome  days ! 
So  patient  in  His  service  sweet 

O'er  thorny   ways ! 
So  loyal  to  His  will  divine 

In   suffering's  hour! 
Oh,  when  the  Bridegroom  came  to  thee, 

How  rich  thy   dower! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  159 


How  beautiful  the  gentle  heart, 

The  kindly  ways ! 
The  unassuming   life   aglow 

With  Love's  pure  rays ! 
The   sympathetic   soul   that   strove 

To   lighten    care ! — 
These  were  the  gifts  the  Bridegroom  found 

And  claimed   fore'er! 

Goodby,  dear  friend !    God  with  thee  be 

Until   we   meet! 
Oh,  pray  for  us  now  rest  is  thine 

At  Jesus'  feet! 
For  thee  our  prayers  of  love  will  rise, 

Both  morn   and   night, 
And  bind  us  close  to  thee,  dear  heart, 

With  chains  of  light ! 


FEAST   OF   THE  PURIFICATION. 

Where,  where  art  thou  speeding,  O  beautiful  one ! 

With  Jesus  so  close  to  thy  breast? 
To  the  Temple?    What  need  canst  thou  have  of  man's 
prayers, 

Sweet  Virgin,  the  grace-filled  and  blessed? 

"I  go,  that  my  children  submission  may  learn 
To  God  and   His   servants'  commands, 

That  His  love  be  remembered  and  self  be   forgot. 
No  matter  how  loud  its  demands." 


160  G  ARLAN  D     OF    S  ON  G 


O,  Fountain  of  Purity  !     Vessel  of  Light ! 

In  rapture  we  kneel  at  Thy  Feet, 
As  to-day  the  pure  lips  of  that  fair  long  ago, 

Its  lessons  of  beauty  repeat ! 

We  offer  thee  hearts  far  from  perfect,  alas ! 

But  bathed  with  repentance'  warm  tears ; 
Wilt   thou    fold    them,    fond    mother,    close,    close    to 
thine  own, 

And  hold  them  thro'  all  the  long  years? 

And  if  we  would  wander,  O,  twine  'round  our  necks 
The  dear  wounded  Arms  of  thy  Son, 

And  then  over  selfishness,  weakness  and  sin 
Will  a  glorious  vict'ry  be  won ! 

And  now,  dearest  Mother,  send  blessings  to-day, 
On  our  lives  and  on  those  we  love  best, 

O,   deck  them  with  Purity's   fair  matchless   grace, 
Till  with  thee,  evermore,  they  may  rest ! 


SUBMISSION. 

"Sweet  flowers  that  decked  the  smiling  vales, 

Were  you  not  sad  when  Summer  fled, 
And  Winter's  snowy  mounds  were  laid 
Upon  your  erstwhile   grassy   bed?" 

"O,  yes,  we  missed  the  sunny  days, 

But  then,  'twas  God  that  bade  them  die, 
And  so  we  calmly  fell  asleep, 

And  never  stopped  to  question  'why.' >: 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  161 

"Dear  birds,  whose  music  rilled  the  woods, 

Whose  nests  were  built  on  leafy  trees, 
Are  you  not  sad  that  branches  bare 

Now  bend  beneath  the  wintry  breeze?" 

"Ah,  yes,  we  miss  our  verdant  home, 

But  as  to  softer  climes  we  fly, 
We  know  God's  wisdom  ruleth  all, 
And  never  stop  to  question  Svhy.' " 

"Dear  stricken  soul,  do  not  repine, 

If  all  your  choicest  blessings  flee, 
And  other  lives  drink  draughts  of  joy 
That  ne'er  will  be  vouchsafed  to  thee. 

O,  meekly  bend,  although  above 

The  grave  where  hope's  fair  blossoms  lie, 

For  peace  abides  with  him  who  bears 
And  strives  to  never  question  'why.' " 


GOD  IS    LOVE. 

I  love  thy  flowery,  leafy  groves, 
O,   sunny  beaming  life ! 

Thy  buoyant   hopes  and    cheery  songs, 
Thy  days   with   blessings  rife ! 

Thy  sky  looks  on  with  face  undimmed, 
Fulfilled    is    every    dream, 

One  song   resounds    from   morn   till  night- 
Life,    life,    how  fair   you    seem! 

Another  hymn   floats    from    above — 
God   is  Love !     God  is   Love ! 
11 


162  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


How  sad  you've  grown !    How  still  your  groves 

O,    darkened,    mournful    life ! 
How  full  of  tears  your  skies  appear! 

Your  days  with  sorrow,   rife. 
Dear   hope !   dear   hope !   around  me   now 

Your  softened  rays  ne'er  beam, 
My   heart  can   sing  but   one   low    song — 

Life,  life,   how  dark   you   seem ! 
But   still   the  music   from  above — 

God  is  Love  !     God  is  Love ! 

I  leave  you,  Earth!  leave  all  your  joys, 

And  all  your  bitter  tears, 
To  go  to  Him  who  sent  me  both, 

Thro'    many,    many    years ! 
I'm   glad,   and    yet   I  fear   the   vale 

That  leads  to  Death's  abode, 
If  those   I   love  could  only  come 

'Twould  seem   an   easy  road. 
I  go  !     I  go !     But  not  alone  ! 

For    listen!    from    above 
Is  borne  to  earth  the  message  sweet — 

Your  guide  is  God  and  He  is  Love ! 


LINES. 

You  chided  me  for  tears  that  came 

At  your  light  spoken  word; — 
A  "woman"  should  not  feel  or  show 
(Which  is  it?)  thoughts  that  live  and  glow 

When  memories  fond  are  stirred. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  163 

'Tis  long  ago — that  Summer  day 
When   our   "good-byes"  were   said, 

But  bitter  tears  will  come  again, 

The  pain  is  sharp  and  deep  as  then, 
The  wistful  love  not  dead. 

Through  all  the  triumphs  of  to-day, 

Through  all  the  pleasant  hours, 
Our  thoughts  roam  back  to  dear  "old  times," 
We  hear  again  youth's  merry  chimes, 

And  pick  Love's  fairy  flowers. 

Old  times !    Old  times !    We  love  you  so, 

We  miss  your  tender,  blissful  strain, 
And  not  that  then  no  "woes  could  sting  us," 
But  "that  this  life  no  more  can  bring  us 
One  joy  so  sweet  as  your  worst  pain." 

Some  time,  perhaps,  the  world  will  teach 

Me  much  I  need  of  woman's  art, 
In  hiding  all,  as  well  as  some 
Of  joys  and  sorrows  deep  that  come 

To  rest  within  the  heart. 

But  these  the  world  can  never  change, — 

The  wish  that  one  dear  time  could  last, 
The  heart  that  clings  to  friends  of  yore, 
That  sees  each  day  its  love  grow  more, 
For  all  the  blessed  past. 


164  GARLANDOFSONG 

When  fondest  memories  thrilled  the  heart, 

O,  wonder  not  that  eyes  grew  dim ! 
Would  I  could  be  with  thee  once  more, 
Close  to  thy  side  till  life  was  o'er, 
Then  only  leave  thy  love  for  Him. 


THE  PROMISE. 

When  the  Cross,  its  shadow  throwing, 

Looms  upon  the  way, 
And  our  hearts,  so  bruised  and  broken, 
Will  not  see  'tis  love's  sweet  token 

Dimming  thus  the  day ; 

When  our  prayers  and  tears  are  fruitless 

With  the  God  of  all; 
Doubt  and  anguish  are  before  us, 
While  the  shadows  deepen  o'er  us, 

For  the  cross  must  fall. 

Fall,  and  bury  in  its  falling 

Sweetest  hopes  we  knew. 
O'er  the  grave  where  joy  lies  sleeping, 
Pray  we  now,  in  bitter  weeping 

For  one  glimpse  of  blue. 

List,  through  all  the  by-gone  ages 

Floats  the  promise  true  for  aye ; 
Blessed  are  the  hearts  of  sorrow, 
They  will  know  the  glad  to-morrow. 
"I  will  wipe  their  tears  away !" 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  165 


Not  on  earth,  O,  tender  Savior! 

May  that  promise  be  fulfilled; 
But  when  life  is  from  us  stealing, 
Then  our  hearts  will  know  their  healing, 

Then  the  bitter  cry  be  stilled ! 


THE  REPLY. 

"A  question  lies  hiding,  my  darling, 

Deep  down  in  those  dark  eyes  of  gray, 
While  in  the  fair  glow  of  youth's  sunshine 

Beside  me  you're  sitting  to-day." 
"Right  keenly  you've  read  me,  wise  auntie, 

What  I  fain  would  learn  from  you  is  this : — 
Of  the  joys  and  the  blessings  earth  gave  you, 
Which  yielded  the  richest  of  bliss?" 

Over  her  face  a  radiance  beamed, 

And  filled  her  eyes  of  blue, 
The  eyes  that  Age  but  served  to  make 

More  tender  in  their  hue. 
Fondly  she  kissed  the  earnest  brow, 

And  smoothed  the  golden  head, 
Praying  the  web  of  life  might  be, 

Woven  of  shining  thread. 

"My  laugh  was  once  as  free  as  thine, 

My  heart  as  blithe  and  gay ; 
My  brow  crowned  too  with  golden  locks 
Time  since  transformed  to  gray. 


166  G  ARLAN  D     OF    S  ON  G 

The  world  its  cup  of  pleasure  served, 

I  quaffed  it  oft  and  deep, 
And  dreams  that  earth  held  higher  bliss 

Filled  not  my  happy  sleep. 

"But  soon  I  met  a  noble  soul, 

Earnest,  sincere  and  strong, 
Slowly  it  won  me  to  its  side, 

From  out  the  giddy  throng. 
Then  rang  aloft  in  cadence  clear, 

Pure  friendship's  song  of  joy, 
Ah !  never  felt  I  greater  bliss, — 

The  bliss  that  cannot  cloy ! 

"It  blest  my  life,  that  tender  love 

Resting  in  God's  own  heart, 
To  nobler  objects  led  the  mind 

Where  earth  held  greatest  part. 
I  will  not  say  that  skies  e'er  smiled 

Clear  and  undimmed  above, 
For  Love  has  storm  clouds,  bitter  hours, 

More  bitter  for  the  love. 

"But  the  bliss  of  the  tender  word  or  deed 

From  a  heart  so  fondly  dear 
Will  more  than  balance  all  that  brought 

The  heartache  and  the  tear. 
"The  waters  rippling  'round  my  bark 

Are  tinged  with  sunset  light, 
The  shades  of  twilight  faster  fall, 
They'll  soon  be  merged  in  night. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  167 

'And  when  my  Savior  softly  calls, 

I'll  bless  Him  for  the  love 
He  sent  to  guide  me  on  the  way 

That  led  to  Home  above. 
Then,  amid  all  the  glittering  band 

I'll  seek  the  friend  of  yore. 
And  soul  to  soul  be  bound  by  links 

Death's  hand  can  break  no  more." 

Gently  the  young  girl  stepped  away, 

Leaving  old  age  to  muse 
The  cherished  friend  that  filled  life's  sky 

With  softest,  tenclerest  hues. 
A  hopeful  light  creeps  up  her  face, 

And  nestles  in  her  eyes, 
A  dreamy  smile  plays  'round  her  lips, — 

Slowly  the  sunset  dies ! 


MAY  MEMORIES. 

When  May  draws  nigh,  we  travel  back 
To  happy  days  of  "Auld  Lang  Syne," 

And  see  again  our  childhood's  skies, 
Where   stars   of  beauty  brightly  shine. 

The  dear  old  school !     The  tiny  shrine, 
With  Mother  Mary's  statue  white! 

The  sisters,  teachers,  friends  beloved, 
The   girlish   faces   beaming  bright. 


168  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Do  you  remember,  friends  of  yore, 

The  walks  to  mass  ?     The  prayer,  the  hymn, 

That  rose  in  Mary's  honor  in 

The  old,  old  church,  like  cloister  dim? 

Ah,  some,  the  gayest  then,  since  quaffed 
Of  sorrow's  cup,  both  full  and  deep ; 

And  some,  the  sweetest  and  the  best, 
God's  spouses  are,  or  lie  asleep ! 

Dear  Mother  Mary !    Life  has  shown 
To  us  both  dark  and  sunny  side, 

But  in  the  shadow  or  the  light, 

Thou'rt  still  our  stay,  our  friend,  our  guide ! 

O  May-day  breeze !  you  waft  to  us 

The  memories  sweet  of  "Auld  Lang  Syne !" 

Each  thought  a  loving  prayer  for  those 
Who  knelt  with  us  near  Marv's  Shrine ! 


THE  DEATH-ANGEL. 

Laden    with    hopes  and    plans  and    dreams, 

With  thought  and  care  and  prayer, 
The  Day  had  climbed  the  hill  of  Night 

To   lay  its  burdens  there ! 
Upon  the  summit,  still  and   far, 

Two  angels  brooded  low ; 
The  spirits  twain  of  Peace  and  Sleep 

That    mortals    love    and    know! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  169 

They  took  thee  in  their  arms,  dear  friend, 

And  breathed  upon  thy  soul, 
And  lo !  within  its  deepest  depths 

The  strains    celestial    roll ! 
The  Easter  Alleluias  ring 

And  drown  earth's  wail  of  woe, 
Upon  the  heights  is  peace  profound ! 

The  tears,  the  grief,  below ! 

In  calmest  majesty  of  death 

She   lieth    smiling  now, 
All   heedless   of  the   bitter  tears 

That  rain  upon  her  brow ! 
They  mourn  the  stanch,  true  mother-love 

That  never,   never  failed ! 
She  basks  within   Eternal  Light 

To    their    weak    vision    veiled. 

She  fell  asleep,  her  life-work  done, 

His   Cross   upon   her  breast ! 
She  woke  within  the  arms  of  Him 

Whose  image  close  she  pressed ; 
Ah,   tenderly   Christ  crucified 

Gazed  on  that  mother  then, 
While  from  the  angelic  choirs  burst  forth 

Heaven's  glorious  "Amen !" 

lay   this   simple  flower  of  song 
Upon  thy  grave,  dear  heart, 
And  may  its  fragrance  soothe  the  wound 
Inflicted  by  Death's   dart. 


170  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


Where  thou  hast  gone  there  is  no  grief, 
Then  plead  that  peace  may  come 

To  those  who  mourn  in  sorrow  now 
Within  the  darkened  home ! 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS. 

My  little  blue-eyed  pupil, 

With  curls  of  golden  brown, 

Came  tripping  up  with  sweetest  smiles, 
To  lay  a  love  gift  down : — 

A  bunch  of  apple  blossoms, 

That  flooded  air  with  scent, 
And  bore  my  spirit  far  away 

On  wings  that  Fancy  lent — 

To  wide  and  shady  orchards, 
To  brooks  as  crystal  bright, 

To  haunts  of  birds  and  flowers, 
To  home  of  sunset  light. 

And  all  that  day  while  floated 
That  subtle  fragrance  'round, 

The  purest  thoughts  within  my  heart 
Abiding  places  found. 

There  are  lives  like  apple  blossoms, 
Strong  hearts  of  untold  worth, 

Diffusing  sweetest   fragrance, 
As  they  pass  along  the  earth ; 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  171 

Cheering,  sustaining,  guiding 

The  weaker  ones  they  meet 
Upon  the   dusty  highway 

So  full  of  glare  and  heat. 

O  blessings  on  those  hearts  we  say ! 

And  praise  to  Him  be  given 
Who  sent  such  souls  to  flood  our  lives, 

With  perfume,  born  in  Heaven ! 


LIFE'S  EVENING. 

You    are    glowing,    purely    glowing, 

Visions  in  life's  evening  skies, 
Night  is  nearing,   you  are   cheering, 

While  day's  sunlight  slowly  dies. 
Golden  hues  more  mellow  growing 

Sparkle  on  the  glistening  foam, 
Raydrops    streaming  from   the   gleaming, 

Born  within  the  Father's  Home. 
Spirit  voices  soothing  lull  me, 

Drifting,  drifting   with   the   tide, 
Peace  breathes  o'er  me,  Rest  before  me, 

Fear  I  not  Death's  ocean  wide ! 

They  wait  beyond  the  waters  deep 

The  loved  ones  gone  before. 
O,  hearts  I've  missed,  I'll  greet  you  soon 

My  own  forevermore! 


172  G  ARLAN  D     OF    S  ON  G 


I  turn   with  all  pervading  joy 

To  bid  farewell  to  earth, 
Flow  waters  flow,  glow  sunset  glow, 

Till  Heaven's  Peace  has   birth ! 

Ambition's  yearning  hopes  are  fled, 
All,  all  of  earth  but  Love  is  dead ! 

The  light  pours  out  in  golden  streams, 

And  peace,  thou'rt  mine,  beyond  my  dreams, 

The  streets  of  Pearl  in  glory  shine, 

Rest,  rest  my  soul,  God's  Home  is  thine! 


TO  JOHN. 

Eleven  times  have  summer  suns 

Shone  o'er  thy  grassy  mound, 
And  full  as  oft  have  wintry  snows 

Spread  robes  of  light  around. 
We've  heard  for  years  the  songs  of  spring 

And   marked  the   leaflet's   fall, 
Since  through  our  home,  long  days  ago 

Rang  loud  the   solemn   call. 
O,  well  beloved !  when  Death  claimed  thee, 

He  took  the  "household  light" 
And  left  but  stars  of  Memory 

To   cheer  the   heavy  night! 

Thou  wert  so  pure,  so  good,  so  true, 

So  gentle  and  so  kind, 
And  selfishness  within  thy  breast 

No  resting  place  could  find. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  173 

The  mother  weeps  the  tender  love 

That  brightened  every  day ; 
The  father  mourns  the  many  hopes 

That  fled  with  thee  away. 
Tho'  years  have  passed,  thy  name,  beloved, 

Is  yet  a  "household  word," 
For  mothers'  hearts  are  loyal  ones 

Where  love  is  ever  heard ! 

The   sculptured   marble   o'er  thy   grave 

Proclaims    thy    beauteous  life ; 
And  in  our  hearts  sweet  memories  live, 

Enshined  where  Love  is  rife. 
Thrice  blest  career !    So  short  and  yet 

So  full  of  deeds   called   just, 
The  deeds  God  loves  that  "smell  so  sweet 

And  blossom  in  the  dust !" 
O,  brother,  may  thy  life  be  mine ! 

One   strong   all   brightening   ray 
Like  that  which  God  bore  heavenward 

Eleven  years  to-day! 


THE  SACRED  HEART. 

"The  way  is  so  weary,  dear  Lord,"  we  cry, 
"'The  sky  is  so  gloomy,  the  summit  so  high  ; 
The  Cross  is  so  heavy,  we  droop  'neath  the  load, 
And  we  long  for  the  end  of  the  desolate  road, 
As  we  stand  in  our  doubting  and  weakness  alone, 
To  send  up  to  Heaven  our  pitiful  moan." 


174  G  ARLAN  D     O  F    S  ON  G 

Is  it  heard?   Is  it  answered?   A  thorn-crowned  brow, 
And  eyes  lit  by  love  are  besides  us  now ! 
Two  beautiful  hands  with  the  wounds  filled  with  light, 
The  Feet  that  bore  Love  up  to  Calvary's  height, 
The  Side  where  the  gateway  was  ope'd  by  the  steel, 
Dear  Jesus !  Dear  Jesus !  before  thee  we  kneel. 

Is  the  sky  then  so  gloomy  and  heavy  the  load? 

Do  you  long  for  the  end  of  the  desolate  road  ? 

When  I  bore  my  Cross  were  there  flowers  'neath  my 

feet? 

Did  bright  sunny  skies  my  tearful  gaze  meet? 
My  child  you  forget  that  sorrow-filled  way 
Or  you  would  not  repine  at  your  brief  darkened  day. 

Come  to  my  Heart,  if  the  way  seem  too  long, 

And  I  will  bequeath  you  the  Love  that  makes  strong ! 

If  I  send  through  your  life  a  bright  happy  strain, 

Come  in  your  joy,  as  you  come  in  your  pain, 

For  my  love,  dearest  children,  will  never  depart, 

Confide  in  it,  love  it,  my  own  Sacred  Heart. 


AFTER  FIFTY  GOLDEN  YEARS. 
(To  Mother  E.) 

A  life  we  see  in  its  spring-time  fair 

When  buds  are  ripening  to  blossoms  bright, 

When  skies  give  promise  of  sunniest  days 
That'll  ne'er  be  merged  in  darksome  night. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  175 

Standing  by,  the  busy  world 

With  its  vot'rics  at  its  feet, 
Tells  this  soul,  in  siren  song, 

All  its  fame  and  pleasures  fleet. 
And  we  see,  in  the  distance  a  spear-pierced  Heart, 

Two  hands  that  are  wounded  and  two  bleeding  Feet, 
While  pressed  on    the  kingly,  the  beautiful  Head, 

The  sharp,  cruel  thorns  in  a  ruby  crown  meet. 
With  eyes  brimming  over  with  God-like  love, 

He  looks  in  the  heart-depths  so  fresh  and  fair, 
He  whispers  of  peace,  of  eternal  joys, 

Of  bliss  that  His  spouses  alone  may  share. 
A  life  we  see  in  its  spring-time  bright 

When  buds  are  ripening  to  blossoms  sweet, 
Yield  all  for  the  nuptial  garment  pure 

That  lies,  in  its  whiteness,  at  Jesus'  Feet. 


The  budding  spring  to  summer  wanes, 

To  fervid,  blossoming  sunny  days, 
And  sees  this  life  the  beacon  light 

That  guides  "His  own"  through  narrow  ways. 
Angels  note  the  tender  words, 

Falling  like  refreshing  showers, 
Wak'ning  in  the  doubting  heart, 

Opening  buds  and  fairest  flowers, 
Leading  souls  inflamed  with  love, 

Closer,  closer  to  their  God, 
Up  the  mounts  of  Faith  and  Prayer, 

Sainted  ones  before  them  trod. 


176  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  beautiful  Bridegroom  is  standing  beside, 
The  rays  of  His  Love  on  His  chosen  one  fall, 

The  chalice  of  graces  He  pours  upon  her, 

He  crowned  with  the  wonderful  grace  of  the  "call. 


'Tis  autumn,  and  its  glowing  fruits 

Are  gathered  still  by  Jesus'  Hands. 
The  spouse  He  won  is  guiding  on 

Predestined  souls  to  "promised  lands ;" 
Is  bending  o'er  the  poor,  the  sick, 

Wherever  suffering  makes  its  moan, 
And  seeing  in  each  sorrowing  one, 

The  lovely  image  of  her  "Own." 
Happy  angels  sweetly  sing, 

While  the  unfading  wreath  they  twine, 
"He  that  leads  'My  own'  to  me, 

Like  the  stars  above  shall  shine/' 
Softly  place  they  now  the  gems, 

Soon  the  crown  will  be  complete 
Soon  the  life-long  work  of  love 

End  in  rest  at  Jesus'  Feet. 
O,  our  Jesus,  Bridegroom  dear, 

Blessings,  blessings  on  thy  Heart 
That  reveals  to  chosen  souls 

Beauties  of  the  "better  part!" 
Be  to  her,  our  Mother  loved, 

Evermore  her  "All  in  All," 
Till  the  crowning  grace  descend 

In  thy  Heaven — bringing  call ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  177 


WHAT  THEY  TEACH. 

The  flowers  and  buds  of  Summer  bright, 

Light  earth  with  beauty  fair, 
And  load  the  breezes,  winging  past 

With  incense  rich  and  rare. 

They  speak  of  songs  of  happy  birds, 

Of  woods  and  azure  skies, 
But  never  breathe  of  Winter's  gloom 

That  hid  them  from  our  eyes. 

The  petals,  many-hued,  will  tell 

No  tales  of  struggles  hard 
To  burst  from  out  their  prison  cells, 

And  deck  the  verdant  sward. 

The  brook  goes  dancing  through  the  vale, 

And  sings  a  cheery  song ; 
It  throws  its  spray  to  grass  and  trees 

And  buds,  its  path  along. 

Thus,  laughing,  glistening  in  the  sun, 

It  speeds  upon  its  ways, 
But  tells  not  of  the  mountain  dark 

That  chained  it  many  days. 

And  songsters,  too,  in  gilded  cage, 
Send  sweetest  strains  on  high ; 

But  ne'er  we  hear  the  longing  tone 

For  woods  and  fields  and  sky. 
12 


178  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 

O,  flowers  and  streams  and  birds !  You  teach 

A  lesson  sweet  and  deep : — 
To  share  our  joys,  our  smiles  with  all — 

With  Him,  alone,  to  weep! 


THE  LAST  TIME. 

I  stand  beside  the  schoolhouse  door, 
The  old  red  schoolhouse  on  the  hill, 

And  watch  each  little  "student"  bend 
Above  his  task  with  earnest  will. 

Back  o'er  the  busy  years  I  step, 

And  call  from  out  the  walks  of  life, 

From  lonely  graves  on  land  and  sea, 
From  scenes  of  peace  and  scenes  of  strife, 

The  faces  known  so  long  ago ; 

Not  one — not  one — do  I  forget. 
I  loved  them  then — I  love  them  now, 

Though  years  have  fled  since  last  we  met ! 

O  dear  old  schoolhouse!     Dearer  still 
That  I  my  last  must  look  on  thee ! 

Would  I  could  cross  thy  threshold  now 
The  care  free  child  I  used  to  be ! 

Farewell !     I  turn  a  last,  fond  look 

On  scenes  endeared  since  childhood's  days — 
On  every  tree,  and  stream,  and  flower, 

Along  the  old  familiar  ways. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  179 

They  say  that  wealth  and  fame  will  both 

Be  mine  beyond  the  sea ; 
That  duty  bids  me  break  the  bonds 

Dear  home,  'twixt  thee  and  me. 

But  they  may  brighten  as  they  will 

The  future,  and  may  tell 
Of  duty's  claims,  but  cannot  take 

One  pang  from  out  "Farewell !" 

The  last,  last  time  to  look  on  home, 

On  all  I  trust  and  prize — 
To  hear  no  more  the  voice  of  love, 

To  meet  no  more,  love's  eyes ! 

O  bitter  wound,  that  fame  nor  wealth, 

Nor  duty  e'en  can  heal ! 
That  leaves  the  heart  for  many  years 

Untouched  by  woe  or  weal ! 


TO  AMY. 

When  the  Summer  sun  shone  and  the  blossoms  of  light 

Were  decking  this  fair  world  of  ours, 
An  Angel  flew  forth  from  his  Heaven  so  bright 

And  brought  us  the  fairest  of  flowers. 
The  "baby"  he  bore  to  her  home  on  this  earth 

To  scatter  love's  fragrance  for  aye, 
To  fill  it  with  sunshine,  with  gladness  and  mirth 

Came  Amy,  just  "three  years"  to-day! 


180  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 

Three  years !  Only  three  blissful  Summers  of  life, 

And  yet  she  has  won  every  heart, 
By  sweet  guileless  ways,  by  a  spirit  that's  rife 

With  beauties  that  ne'er  will  depart. 
The  "pet  of  the  household"  she  reigns  as  its  queen, 

And  cheerfully   subjects  obey. 
Such  a  dear  little  ruler  there  never  was  seen, 

As  Amy,  just  three  years  to-day ! 

Ah !  would  that  the  eyes  now  so  bright  and  so  blue, 

Could  never  be  dimmed  by  the  tear ! 
That  the  love  all  around  her,  so  earnest  and  true, 

In  the  struggle,  could  ever  be  near ! 
But  these,  little  one,  the  cold  world  cannot  give, 

Its  offerings,  too  soon,  fade  away, 
We'll  ask  the  fair  treasures  that  ever  will  live 

For  Amy,  just  three  years  to-day! 

O,  Father  of  tenderness,  Father  of  love, 

Of  a  love  that  will  never  depart, 
Send  choicest  of  blessings  from  Heaven  above, 

To  the  pet  of  a  fond  mother's  heart ! 
Sweet  Angels  e'er  guard  her,  the  prized  and  the  dear, 

Bring  gifts  that  will  never  decay, 
To  brighten  the  birthday  we  now  welcome  here 

Of  Amy,  just  three  years  to-day! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  181 

IN  MEMORIAM. 

(Denis  J.  Swenie,  ex-Fire  Marshal  of  Chicago.) 

Toll,  requiem  bells !     The  "Chief"  is  dead ! 

The  brave,  the  dauntless  one ! 
Life's  last  "alarm"  has  struck  above 

Chicago's  noblest  son ! 

And  as  he  harkened  during  life 

To  Duty's  slightest  call, 
So  now  all  fearlessly  he  stepped 

Beneath  Death's  sable  pall. 

For  him,  brave  son  of  Mother  Church, 

The  shadows  held  no  foe; 
The  "Chief"  had  served  his  Master  well, 

Why  should  he  fear  to  go? 

They  gather  in  the  temple  dim, 

The  friends  from  far  and  near, 
To  bring  the  tribute  of  their  love 

In  heartfelt  prayer  and  tear. 

The  comrades  true  who  faced  with  him 

Full  many  an  hour  of  dread, 
May  think,  while  still  the  Kyries  sob, — 

We  followed,  but  he  led. 

O,  comrades  of  the  days  gone. by, 

Although  your  "Chief"  lies  dead, 
Still  walk  along  the  path  of  Right, 

Still  follow  where  he  led. 


182  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

To  her  who  loved  him  best  of  all, 
Who  shared  his  every  thought, 

Who  gazes  now  on  lonely  ways 
With  grief  and  longing  fraught, 

We  can  but  say:     "The  light  still  shines 

Beyond  the  darkened  skies, 
And  at  the  bend  of  lonely  roads, 

God's  peace  eternal  lies  !" 

Toll,  requiem  bells !   The  "Chief"  lies  dead ! 

But  evermore  there  dwells 
The  influence  of  his  stainless  life. 

Toll,  toll,  O  requiem  bells! 


OLD  AGE  AND  THE  RAIN. 

All  day  long  the  rain  is  falling, 

Beating  'gainst  the  window  pane, 
On  the  cottage  roof  'tis  pouring, 

In  the  garden,  in  the  lane. 
I  am  musing  where  the  firelight 

Throws  its  shadows  on  the  wall, 
Dreaming  while  with  patter  steady 

On  my  heart  the  raindrops  fall ; 
Waking  with  their  saddening  music 

Voices  from  the  years  long  fled, 
Ever  thus  since  early  childhood, 

Raindrops  bring  me  back  my  dead ! 


GARLANDOFSONG  183 


On  through  all  the  lights  and  shadows 

Of  a  life  of  four-score  years, 
Memory,  blessed  spirit,  wanders, 

Now  in  smiles  and  now  in  tears. 
Treading,  with  her  noiseless  footsteps, 

Through  the  ever-changing  Past, 
Laden  now  with  trophies  many, 

Back  to  me  she  comes  at  last ! 

Childhood  dreams  and  girlhood  fancies 

Flooded  o'er  with  radiance  bright, 
Woman's  hopes  and  aspirations 

Glowing  with  more  mellow  light, 
Years  when  love  made  earth  a  heaven, 

Years  when  sorrow  bowed  the  heart, 
Failures,  triumphs,  strangely  blended, 

In  my  varied  life  have  part. 

Which  were  dearest,  which  most  happy 

Of  these  many  chequered  years? 
Were  they  days  when  woman,  victor, 

Won  by  prayerful  toil  and  tears? 
Or,  when  in  the  scene  of  splendor 

Dazzling  eyes  with  all  its  light, 
There  'mid  beauty,  wit  and  talent, 

Hers  shone  brightest  of  the  bright  ? 

Ah,  me,  no !   I  linger  longest 
On  the  time  when  sunny  youth 

Threw  the  guise  of  Fancy's  figure 
O'er  the  form  of  sober  truth. 


184  GARLAND     OF    SO  N  G 


When  the  love  that  fond  hearts  yielded 
Filled  with  sunshine  all  my  days, 

And  no  selfish,  worldly  feeling- 
Dimmed  the  brightness  of  the  rays. 

Yes,  these  were  the  dearest  moments 
That  my  long,  long  life  e'er  knew, 

Friends  and  joys  of  happy  childhood ! 
O,  had  I  but  died  with  you ! 


The  earth  is  now  smiling,  for  sunset  is  glowing, 

The  birds'  merry  music  is  heard ; 
The  raindrops  have  ceased  and  the  firelight  is  shining, 

The  leaves  by  the  soft  wind  are  stirred ! 
Thus,  thus,  O  my  Savior,  will  life's  lonely  evening 

Light  up  with  the  sun  of  thy  love, 
And  soon  thou  wilt  call  me,  thy  earth-wearied  creature, 

To  rest  with  Thee  ever  above ! 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  BOY  FRIEND. 

When  youth  is  sending  up  its  songs 

Of  hope ;  when  roads,  so  smooth  and  white, 

Are  stretching  far ;  when  all  things  speak 
Of  love,  fruition  and  delight, 

'Tis  hard,  'tis  bitter  hard  to  see 

Death's  gloom  envelop  all ; 
Yet  through  the  shadows  steals  a  light. 

While  words   of  comfort   fall. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  185 


"I  took  him  in  his  budding  youth, 
But  frost  of  sin  can  never  blight; 

I  took  him  e'er  he  felt  the  wounds 
In  life's  unceasing,  bitter  fight. 

"I  took  him  e'er  he  brought  to  you 

A  cloud  of  grief;  while  still 
He  was  your  own,  your  cherished  child, 

Obedient  to  your  every  will. 

"I  left  him  in  your  loving  care, 

To  soothe  with  all  your  tenderest  art ; 

I  took  him  when  the  soft  June  winds 
Were  wafting  homage  to  my  heart. 

"I  took  the  son  I  lent  to  you, 

And  bore  him  on  to  Heaven's  joy ; 

Before  my  heart  he'll  plead  for  you, 
And  I  will  hear  your  darling  boy." 

Dear  hearts,  so  bowed  beneath  the  rod, 
O  let  Faith's  stream  of  sunshine  flow, 

And  let  Gethsemane's  sobbing  prayer 
Be  heard  above  your  chord  of  woe ! 

"Thy  will,  not  ours,  O  God!  be  done!" 
The  Cross  is  hard,  but  Thou  art  nigh ! 

O  guide  us  on  the  narrow  way 
Till  heaven  opens,  bye  and  bye ! 


186  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


JESUS'  LAMENT. 

Is  there  none  to  approach  his  Lord's  table  to-day  ? 

Not  one  that  will  make  me  His  guest? 
Are  my  children  all  deaf  to  the  cry  of  my  love  ? — 

"Come  ye  that  are  weary,  and  rest!" 

Are  you  free  from  all  sorrow,  all  pain  and  all  care, 

Is  the  earth  such  a  peaceful  abode 
That  you  need  naught  from  Heaven  to  comfort  and 
cheer, 

Or  to  guide  you  along  the  straight  road  ? 

Ah,  no,  my  poor  children !  deep  darkness  and  sin 

And  pain  are  too  fruitful  below, 
While  I'm  waiting  to  brighten,  to  cleanse,  to  relieve, 

With  a  love  that  no  mortal  can  show. 

If  you  knew  how  I  long  to  enfold  in  my  arms 
The  children  my  sufferings  have  won ! 

But  you're  turning  away  to  the  world  I  despise, 
Turning  away  from  God's  Son  ! 

And  back  to  my  pure  little  home  I  return, 
To  mourn  the  hard  hearts  of  my  own ; 

With  my  wounded  hands   clasped  o'er  my  lance- 
pierced  breast, 
I  weep  and  I  pray  all  alone. 

Alone !  though  my  angels  in  myriads  kneel, 
And  lay  down  their  crowns  at  my  throne, 

For  my  cry  is  unheard  by  the  children  of  men, 
By  those  I  love  best,  by  my  own ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  187 

For  none  will  approach  his  Lord's  table  to-day, 

Not  one  will  receive  me  His  guest ! 
But  my  love  is  unceasing,  'tis  waiting  you  still, 

"Come  ye  that  are  weary  and  rest!" 


SONG  OF  ABSENCE. 

When  thou  wert  nigh,  the  beaming  skies 

Shone  out  in  brighter  blue, 
When  thou  wert  nigh,  the  flowers  of  earth 

Took  on  a  fairer  hue. 
The  brooklet's  voice  was  sweeter  far, 

The  song  bird's  trill  more  clear, 
All  Nature  wore  a  richer  garb 

When  thou,  beloved,  wert  near ! 

The   notes   of  joy   rang  blithely  out 

When  thou,  dear  one,  wert  nigh, 
And  thou  could'st  ever  lull  to  sleep 

A  deep,    deep   sorrow's  cry. 
But  now  the  pain  is  borne  alone, 

Unheeded  falls  the  tear, 
And  missed  the  depth  Joy's  music  knew, 

When  thou,  beloved,  wert  near ! 

The  rising  sun  that  wakes  the  earth, 
Beholds  a  heart  that  longs  for  thee; 

The  orb  that  sinks  to  rest  at  eve, 
That  yearning  spirit  still  can  see; 


188  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  twilight  deepening  into  night, 

The   stars  that  stud  the   darkened  sky, 

Can  list  the  same  unceasing  prayer, 
If  thou,   beloved,  wert  only  nigh ! 

The  weary  task  will  soon  be  done, 

The  harvest    borne  above, 
We'll  lose  the  Cross  to  wear  the  Crown 

Within   our  Home   of   Love. 
Back  to  their  shrines   will   be  restored 

The  idols  broken  here, 
And  God's  own  sunshine  ever  beam 

When  thou,  beloved,  art  near ! 


STRAY   THOUGHTS. 

You  sing  of  the  woe  that  o'ershadows  the  love 

Whose  fragrance  is  shed  at  the  feet 
Of  the  few  who  receive  it,  but  will  not  return 

An  incense  as  lavish  and  sweet. 
But  think  of  the  joy,  of  the  heaven-fed  bliss 

In  the  giving  of  love  ever  stored, 
And  then  you'll  forget  the  embittering  draught 

That  over  its  sweetness  is  poured. 

We  go  with  our  friendship  to  some  chosen  heart, 

And  giving,  we  give  it  for  aye, 
Our  lives  then  are  changed,  for  the  light  of  that  love 

Plays  'round  us  by  night  and  by  day. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  189 


But  stop  not  to  doubtingly  question  that  love. 
Let  our  own  be  so  strong  and  so  true, 

'Twill  master  each  feeling  that  threatens  to  rise 
And  darken  our  skies'  azure  hue. 

There's  many  a  soul  that  is  stirred  to  its  depths 

With  feelings  it  never  can  tell, 
Whose  life  work  will  be  but  to  keep  within  bounds 

The  love  that  too  strongly  would  swell. 
And  how  do  we  know  but  the  hearts  we  so  prize 

Are  brimming  with  love  like  our  own, 
While  over  the  struggle,  the  silence  of  years, 

Mayhap  of  a  lifetime  is  thrown. 
But  when  we  have  passed  from  the  valley  below 

To  the  garden  of  Beauty  above, 
The  veil  will  be  drawn  and  disclose  to  the  eye, 

The  depths  of  their  half-expressed  love. 


OCTOBER. 

With  a  step  that  is  light  and  an  eye  that  is  bright, 

Come,  gather  the  nuts  that  fall ; 
The  rich,  purple  grapes  and  the  apples  that  lie 

So  thick  by  the  orchard  wall. 
Oh,  a  merry  old  month  is  October  bluff, 

And  rich  in  treasures  is  he ! 
Go  roam  through  the  woods  with  him  for  a  guide, 

And  a  storehouse  vast  you'll  see ! 


190  GARLAND     OF    SON  G 


FAREWELL. 

Only  a  few   short  months  ago 

Thy  hands  in  mine  were  laid, 
And  smiles  lit  up  the  winsome  face, 

So  sweet  in  light  or  shade. 
All  brightly  then  shone  eyes  of  blue, 

While  merry  words  we  said ; 
I  little  dreamed  when  next  we'd  meet 

I'd   bend  above  thee — dead! 

Dear  hands,  so  cold,  now  yield  me  not 

The  pressure  fond  of  old. 
The  heart,  erstwhile  so  warm,   stirs  not 

Death's   snowy  garment's  fold. 
Pure  eyes  are  closed  to  all  this  earth's 

Dark  scenes  of  pain  and  strife, 
And  ne'er  again  will   they  be  dimmed 

By  sorrow  in  this  life. 

With   summer   days   thy    spirit   fled 

To   realms  than  this  more  bright; 
The  Angels  craved  thy  heart   so   pure 

To  add  to  Heaven's  light ! 
To  keep  a  soul  so  chaste  as  thine 

Earth  was  too  full  of  sin, 
So   God  threw  wide  the  gates  of  pearl 

And  bade  thee  enter  in. 

O,  sorely,  sorely  art  thou  missed 
By  those  who   knew  thy  worth, 

But  far  more  grievously  thou'rt  mourned 
By  her  who  gave  thee  birth ! 


GARLAND    OF    SONG  191 


Thou  wert  the  only  ray  of  light 

That  lit  her  lifetime's   day ; 
Without  thee,  O  how  dark  and  drear 

Looms  up  her  lonely  way ! 

How  can  we  soothe  that  stricken  heart, 

How   ease  its  heavy   load? 
Naught  can  we  do  but  weep  with  her 

And  point  to  Calvary's  road. 
Beneath    His  Cross  the   wounded   soul 

Will  find  a  healing  balm, 
And  to  the  spirit  sore  distressed 

Will  come  the  restful  calm. 


LEO  XIII. 

Leo  is  dead !  The  message  thrills  a  world 

That  mourning  kneels,  and  leaves  beside  his  grave 

A  tribute  rich  of  prayers  and  tears  and  love. 

Christ's  vicar,  truly,  both  in  name  and  deed, 

The  fragrance  of  his  life  pervaded  earth. 

The  mighty  bowed  before  his  crystal  mind, 

His  spotless  soul,  that  conquered  where  the  sword 

Would  fail.     No  king  too  proud  to  honor  him  ; 

No  wit  so  keen  his  could  not  match  its  steel ; 

No  battlefield  of  thought  so  full  of  foes 

That  he  would  fear  defeat ;  no  warring  factions 

Failed  to  heed  his  cry  of  "Peace !" 

No  creed  so  narrow  but  it  widened  out 

Beneath  the  pressure  of  his  well-filled  life. 


192  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

"Lumen  in  coelo !"  and  the  light  still  lives! 
Down  through  the  coming  ages  will  it  burn ! 
"I  am  content !"   Leo,  thou  well  mayst  be ! 
God's  friend  and  humanity's  on  earth,  mourned  now 
By  monarchs,  diplomats  and  sons  of  toil, 
While  from  all  hearts  uplifts  this  prayer  for  thee, 
"Eternal  rest  give  unto  him,  O  Lord!" 


ANSWERED. 

Am  I  lonely?  you  ask.    Take  a  look  at  those  trees 
With  their  giant  arms  spread  to  the  sweet  Summer 

breeze ; 

How  they  woo  and  they  win  every  soft  breeze  that  plays 
Through  the  calm,  restful  nights  and  the  long,  glowing 

days! 

Every  leaf  is  a  key ;  every  breeze  is  a  note 
As  clear  as  what  pours  from  the  forest  bird's  throat ! 

They  are  singing  of  hope,  for  it  seems  but  a  day 
Since  their  boughs  were  all  bare  and  the  birds   far 

away; 

Now  they're  decked  out  anew  in  their  mantles  of  green 
While  the  birdlings  are  nestling  their  branches  between, 
And  I'm  nearer  to  God  as  I  rest  'neath  the  trees, 
To  drink  in  the  music  evoked  by  the  breeze. 

See  the  moss  at  the  roots!    Ah,  how  firmly  it  clings, 
While  of  faithful  affection  it  evermore  sings ! 


GAR  LAND     OF    SONG  193 


Of  hearts  that,  once  given,  forever  are  leal, 
As  staunch  as  the  rocks  and  as  true  as  the  steel ! 
O  blessings,  dear  moss,  for  the  story  you  tell 
Of  hearts  that  can  love  us  so  fondly  and  well ! 

Am  I  lonely  ?  you  ask  me.    Ah,  could  you  but  hear 
The  secrets  they  whisper,  those  giant  trees  near, 
How  gladly  you'd  rest  on  the  earth  at  their  feet 
To  listen  with  me  to  their  murmurings  sweet! 
And  nearer  to  heaven  they'd  draw  you,  I  ween, 
Those  grand,  massive  trees  in  their  mantles  of  green! 


IN  THE  HAMMOCK. 

So  lazily  swinging  and  swinging 

In  the  shade  of  the  maple  trees, 
While  the  perfume  of  roses  is  wafted 

On  the  wings  of  the  evening  breeze, 
While  the  sun  in  its  golden  glory 

Seems  close  to  the  hilltops  pressed, 
And  the  cloudlets  are  slowly  sailing 

Away  to  the  glowing  West ! 

O  wind  that  is  scarcely  stirring 

The  leaves  as  you  rustle  by ! 
Will  you  let  me  whisper  my  wishes 

As  afar  to  the  South  you  fly  ? — 
That  you  take  from  my  lips  their  kisses, 

And  out  from  my  heart  their  prayer, 
Then  away  to  my  absent  dear  ones 

With  your  burden  of  love  repair. 

13 


194  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

And  when  you  bear  them  my  greeting, 

0  linger  awhile  and  see 
If  eye  or  voice  is  betraying 

A  single  thought  of  me. 
And  if  you  hear  them  whisper 

My  name  as  their  lips  you  greet, 
Speed  back  to  me,  gentle  South  Wind, 

And  tell  me  your  story  sweet ! 

So  swinging  and  swinging  and  watching, 
'Twixt  the  leaves,  the  blue  of  the  sky, 

And  hearing  the  patter  over  the  stones 
Of  the  brook  in  the  roadside  nigh, 

I  think  of  the  home  and  its  loved  ones, 

1  dream  of  peace  and  rest, 

And  seem  so  near  to  God  as  I  gaze 
On  the  radiant,  golden  West ! 


APRIL  DAYS. 

You  wake  at  last  from  slumbers  deep, 

O  buds  and  grasses  green! 
And  all  of  nature's  pulses  throb 

At  sight  of  Spring,  the  queen. 

What  sweet,  sad  thoughts  you  bring  to  us, 
O  month  of  sun  and  showers! 

What  hopes  as  your  own  sunlight  fair! 
What  tears  for  buried  hours! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  195 


There's  not  a  breeze  but  wafts  to  us 

Some  memory  of  the  dead, 
Some  face  or  form  we've  loved  and  lost, 

Or  hope  forever  fled ! 

And  yet  there's  not  a  blade  of  grass 
That  from  the  mold  doth  peep, 

But  speaks  the  resurrection  day 
For  every  joy  asleep! 

Full  many   a   flower   ere  Spring   departs 
Will  droop  its  leaves  and  die ; 

Full  many  a  tender  sapling  rear 
Its  head  in  pride  on  high. 

Aye,  some  will  faint  'neath  loads,  and  some 

Be  victors  in  the  end ! 
And  life  and  death  and  sun  and  shade 

Around   us   strangely  blend. 

But  list !    The  minor  tones  run  through 

My  simple  little  strain — 
Come,  let  us  strike  a  sweeter  chord, 

A  heartier  refrain ! 


Let  us  sing  of  a  faith  in  the  dear,  loving  God, 
Whose  touch  is  awaking  from  sleep 

The  buds  and  the  grasses,  the  clear  waterfalls 
That  merrily  chatter  and  leap ! 

Let  us  go  with  our  love  to  the  dear  ones  who  live, 
For  the  dead  cease  to  weep  and  to  sigh ! 

Ah !  how  often  through  life  is  all  tenderness  hid 
To  be  lavished  on  graves  by  and  by ! 


196  GARLAXD     OF    SONG 

Let  us  seek  through  the  world  for  the  good  and  the 
true — 

We'll  find  them  on  every  side, 
And  with  them  at  last  through  the  portals  of  pearl 

May  we  pass  with  our  souls  sanctified! 


OUR  NELLIE. 

She  is  lying  asleep  'mid  the  lilies  so  fair — 

Our  Nellie,  as  pure  as  they ; 
While  the  beautiful  roses  down  at  her  feet 

Are  breathing  their  lives  away ; 
With  a  smile  of  peace  on  her  winsome  face 

She  lies  like  a  child  at  rest ; 
And  O,  dear  God !  as  our  darling  sleeps, 

'Tis  so  hard  to  say,  "It  is  best." 

O  angel  of  death,  if  human  love 

Were  only  as  strong  as  thou, 
Would  the  joy  of  a  home  be  resting  there 

With  thy  signet  on  her  brow? 
If  thou  couldst  be  moved  by  the  prayers  and  the  tears 

Of  the  hearts  that  treasured  her  best, 
Wouldst  thou  stretch  out  those  arms  of  fearful  strength 

And  our  prize  away  from  us  wrest  ? 

List  to  the  answer  that  floats  through  the  air, 
List !  'Tis  as  soft  as  the  breath  of  a  prayer, 
Gentle  and  tender  as  touches  of  wings, 
Sweet  as  a  message  the  bird  of  Spring  sings : 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  197 

"  'Love  could  not  hold  her!'  you  cry  in  yonr  pain — 
Love  'twas  that  snapped  her  life  cords  in  twain ; 
Love — but  not  human.     The  love  that's  divine 
Spoke,  and  she  slipped  from  your  arms  into  mine. 
There  she  is  nestling-  away  from  the  storm, 
Safe  from  all  dangers,  protected  from  harm ; 
Close  to  my  bosom  I  clasp  her  and  fly 
Far  to  the  Beulah  land,  far  past  the  sky. 

"Peace  !     She  awaits  her  beloved  over  there ! 
Waits  in  the  kingdom  where  woe  enters  ne'er ! 
Prays  that  the  Father  who  chastens  His  own 
Lead  kindly  her  dear  ones  in  joy  to  His  throne!" 
'Tis  meet  thou  shouldst  sleep  'mid  those  blossoms  of 

light, 

As  tender  as  they  and  as  spotlessly  white ; 
'Tis  meet  as  we  bear  thee  'mid  tears  and  with  prayer 
That  the  snowflakes  of  purity  circle  the  air. 
Then  rest  'mid  the  lilies,  our  sweet,  broken  flower. 
We  would  not  revive  thee,  if  ours  were  the  power; 
For  the  hand  that  has  plucked  is  the  hand  of  a  God. 
We  love  Him !    We  love  Him !  though  bowed  'neath 

His  rod. 


UNREST. 

Down  in  the  sweetest  valley  spot 

A  pretty  flower  grew — 
The  sparkling  streamlet  at  its  feet; 

Above,  the  skies  of  blue. 


198  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


The  velvet  mosses  clung  to  trees 

Where  birds  sang  all  the  day, 
And  naught  but  nature's  voices  broke 

The  stillness  of  the  way. 

Thrice  happy  was  the  little  flower 

Until  a  bird's  sweet  lay 
Told  her  a  tale  of  cities  grand 

Beyond  the  valley's  way. 

The  little  brook  hummed  cheeriest  songs ; 

The  dewdrop  sparkled  on  the  green ; 
The  birds  trilled  on,  and  yet  the  flower 

Could  see  no  beauty  in  the  scene. 

For  now  a  vague  unrest  had  come ; 

The  breezes  heard  her  longing  cry ; 
They  bore  her  from  her  valley  home 

And  laid  her  'neath  the  city  sky. 

She  ope'd  her  eyes — the  timid  flower — 
And  shed  her  fragrance  through  the  air, 

But  on  they  rushed,  th'  unthinking  crowd, 
Nor  noted  aught  of  beauty  there. 

Poor  slighted  blossom,  left  alone, 
Now,  now  it  longs  for  valleys  fair ! 

It  sees  a  zephyr  from  the  vale ; 

"O  bear  me  home !"  is  all  its  prayer. 

Gently  the  soft  south  wind  bent  down  ; 

The  dying  flower  it  bore  along, 
To  breathe  its  last  sweet  perfume  where 

It  first  had  heard  the  brooklet's  song. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  199 

The  dewdrops  decked  the  glistening  grass, 

Tears  for  the  beauteous  blossom  dead. 
"Our  God  knows  best !    O  be  content 
Where'er  thou  art,"  the  brooklet  said. 


CALLED  AWAY. 

Life's  valley  lay  with  beauty  filled, 

The  songs  of  joy  rang  through  the  air, 

The  skies  of  blue  had  not  a  cloud, 
And  fragrance  flooded  everywhere. 

But  like  a  flash  from  Summer  skies, 
The  beauty,  peace,  away  had  passed ; 

The  storm  burst  forth  in  awful  might, 
The  Death  King  rode  upon  the  blast! 

The  sparkling  eyes,  the  sunny  smile, 
The  cheeks  with  tints  of  applebloom, 

The  merry  laugh,  the  silvery  voice, 
Were  hidden  'neath  his  robe  of  gloom. 

Like  sleeping  bride  in  robe  of  white, 

With  beauty's  stamp  on  cheek  and  brow, 

The  loving  mother,  wife  and  child, 
In  Death's  embrace  is  lying  now ! 

O  Death!  how  couldst  thou  aim  thy  dart 

At  her,  so  young,  so  fair! 
While  Love  sat  throned  within  her  heart, 

And  bliss  reigned  everywhere. 


200  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

No  answer  comes.    God's  ways  to  us 

Are  mysteries  profound, 
And  still,  the  depths  of  His  dear  love, 

No  human  power  can  sound. 

No  toilsome  road  is  waiting  her, 

No  sorrow's  heavy  pall, 
No  loss  of  love,  no  pang  of  grief, 

No  bitter  tears  to  fall. 

She  slipped  from  arms  of  trusting  love 
To  seek  the  Heart  Divine ! 

She  fell  asleep  to  waken  where 
Eternal  glories  shine. 

Some  day,  O  dear  ones,  stricken  sore ! 

God's  plans  will  be  revealed, 
And  seeds  of  sorrow  spring  as  flowers 

In  Heaven's  celestial  field ! 


TO  AN  OLD  FRIEND. 

Another  good-by  to  a  dear  old  friend, 

Borne  on  o'er  Death's  dark  wave! 
Another  wait  on  the  sunset  shore ! 

Another  grassy  grave ! 
And  far  beyond  on  the  other  side, 

In  God's  sweet  peace  at  rest, 
She  greets  the  waiting  ones  beloved, 

Forever,  ever  blest ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  201 

O  big-,  warm  heart,  life  told  to  thee 

Full  many  a  varied  tale 
Of  sighs  and  songs,  of  toil  and  prayer, 

Ere  Death  took  in  the  sail ! 

0  faithful,  open-handed  friend ! 
O  pitying,  tender  soul ! 

No  deed  of  thine  has  ever  dimmed 
The  whiteness  of  life's  roll ! 

With  arms  around  the  daughter  loved, 
So  dear  to  thee  and  me, 

1  stand  within  the  sunset  rays 
And  waft  "good-bye"  to  thee! 

A  "God  be  with  you !"  dear  old  friend, 

Till  death  with  ebon  sails 
Has  borne  us  o'er  the  shadowed  stream 

To  Light  that  never  fails ! 


THE  LESSON. 

I  roamed  the  woods  one  summer  day, 

When  my  heart  was  rilled  with  vague  unrest, 

For  I  dreamed  that  'mid  its  shady  paths 
Might  lurk  the  peace  that  makes  man  blest. 

Downward  they  bent  their  branches  dark, 

The  green,  the  leafy  trees, 
And  sighed  with  happiness  to  meet 

The  kisses  of  the  breeze. 


202  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

The  little  birds  with  notes  of  joy 

Awoke  the  echoes  'round, 
As  swift  they  winged  their  merry  flight 

Toward  skies  or  mossy  ground. 

The  flowers  lit  up  with  hues  of  light 

The  resting  place  they  knew, 
And  bloomed  as  fair  when  eve  drew  near 

As  'neath  the  morning  dew. 

Each  tree,  each  breeze,  each  grassy  blade, 

Each  flower  of  varied  hue, 
Each  bird  that  caroled  o'er  my  head, 

Contentment  happy  knew. 

They  did  the  work  the  Master  gave, 
And  naught  they  craved  beside ; 

They  lived  to  brighten  earth  for  man, 
And,  when  God  willed,  they  died. 

"Do  likewise,  restless  soul !"  they  cried, 
"Then  o'er  the  waves  of  discontent 
The  'Peace,  be  still'  of  olden  days 
Will  echo  till  the  storm  is  spent !" 


MEMORIES. 

I  kneel  within  the  temple  blest ; 

Around  float  hymns  of  praise, 
And  every  note  that  soars  aloft 

Bears  thoughts  of  other  days. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  203 


I  list  to  tones  from  out  the  past, 

So  rich,  so  full,  so  rare, 
That  but  to  hear  them  ever  dulled 

The  sense  of  pain  and  care. 

She  sang  as  angels  sing,  methinks ; 

No  dream  of  earth  was  there; 
She  sang,  and  every  note  that  fell 

Was  still  a  heartfelt  prayer. 

I  do  not  heed  the  voices  strange 
That  ring  'round  me  to-day ; 

I  list,  instead,  a  voice  I  love 
From  isles  of  "Far  Away !" 

I  live  again  the  days  of  old, 

The  happy,  merry  hours, 
When  all  life's  skies  were  cloudless  blue, 

Its  pathways  filled  with  flowers. 

The  dream  is  o'er !    I  know  the  past 

Is  but  a  memory  now ; 
That  death  has  twined  a  chaplet  dark 

Around  its  marble  brow. 

Stillness  within  the  temple  reigns, 
But  hark  !     A  tinkling  bell ! 

Ah !  there  is  One  abiding  here 
Who  doeth  all  things  well! 

There's  One  whose  love  is  reaching  out, 

Wide  as  the  boundless  sea ! 
Who  holds  within  His  sacred  arms 

Those  hearts  I  prize,  and  me! 


204  CARL  AND    OF    SON  G 


What  matter  if  we  lie  apart 

By  many  a  weary  mile ! 
Though  even  death  has  stepped  between, 

Tis  but  "a  little  while  !" 

'A  little  while"  to  work  His  will, 

And  then  the  endless  rest ; 
'A  little  while"  of  longing  here, 

And  then  forever  blest ! 


A  HEART  SONG. 

Vain  to  essay  the  task,  dear  friend, 

To  paint  thy  noble  worth ; 
Thy  grace  of  mind,  of  heart,  of  soul, 

He  knows  who  woke  its  birth. 
I  would  but  whisper  in  thine  ear 

Of  love,  a  simple  song, 
A  strain  from  melodies  that  chime 

Within  me  loud  and  strong! 

0  heart  to  me  so  fondly  true, 
You've  shared  my  deepest  woe, 

And  searched  and  found  the  good  that  slept 
My  many  faults  below ! 

1  said  you  soothed  my  heaviest  griefs, 
But  all  my  joy  you  never  knew, 

For  the  sweet  bliss  your  friendship  brought 
Could  not  be  spoken — e'en  to  you. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  205 

And  do  you  know  the  prayer  I  breathe 

This  gladsome  Easter  day  ? 
5Tis  that  in  death's  dark  hour  thy  love 

May  be  my  strengthening  stay. 
I  will  not  fear  that  valley's  gloom 

If  thy  dear  face  I  see, 
If  the  sweet  voice  so  well  beloved, 

Will  pray  to  Him  for  me ! 

God  bless  you  for  your  tender  love, 

Your  life  so  pure  and  true, 
Your  counsel,  that  in  doubting  hours 

Clears  shadows  from  my  view. 
May  angels  guard  thee  still,  beloved, 

And  keep  a  place  for  me 
Deep  in  thy  heart,  unworthy  though 

Of  love  like  thine  I  be ! 


DOWN  THE  LANE. 

Peaceful  as  childhood's  slumbers, 
Sweeter  than  youth's  bright  dreams, 

Filled  with  a  wondrous  beauty 
The  scene  around  me  seems. 

The  sun's  last  rays  are  painting 

Beyond  the  western  hills, 
Pictures  so  rare,  so  lovely, 

Each  pulse  within  me  thrills. 


206  GARLAND    OF    SONG 

Like  a  stream  by  grasses  bordered, 

A  line  of  silvery  light, 
The  footworn  path  is  winding 

Away  beyond  the  sight. 

The  crickets  chirp  in  the  clover, 
The  birds  are  still  in  the  nest, 

And  every  breeze  o'er  the  meadow 
Is  softly  whispering  "Rest!" 

Full  many  and  many  a  footstep 
Has  echoed  along  this  lane, 

And  many  a  merry  whistle, 
And  many  a  sob  of  pain ! 

The  springing  step  of  the  youthful, 
The  faltering  feet  of  the  old ; 

Hearts  eager  to  read  life's  story, 
Hearts  glad  that  the  tale  is  told ! 

Hearts  crowded  with  eager  yearnings, 
Hearts  mourning  their  buried  joy ; 

Some  seeing  but  gold  the  purest, 
And  others  the  base  alloy. 

O  footworn  path  !    Though  voiceless, 
You  sing  me  a  soft  refrain, 

With  swelling  strains  of  gladness 
And  minor  tones  of  pain  ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  207 


I  love  to  wander  along  you, 
To  dream  my  dreams  alone, 

And  list  to  the  tales  that  are  told  me 
By  the  grass  and  the  mossy  stone ! 


THE  PINE'S  REPLY. 

"Why  do  you  sigh,  O  stately  Pine ! 

On  the  hill,  this  wintry  day  ? 
Your  branches  are  green ;  the  oak,  the  elm 

Are  mourning  their  leaves'  decay ! 
The  Ice  King's  touch  has  no  power  to  chill 

The  life  blood  in  your  veins ; 
Then  why  do  you  burden  the  passing  winds 

With  those  doleful,  saddening  strains?" 

And  this  is  the  answer  the  Pine  Tree  made, 

As  he  ceased  for  awhile  his  moan : 
"I  know  that  I'm  robed  in  a  mantle  green, 

But  I  stand,  thus  decked,  alone. 
See  the  oak  and  the  elm  I  loved  so  well 

Bereft  of  their  leafy  crown; 
Ah,  me !  each  pang  that  they  felt  was  mine, 

As  their  treasures  fluttered  down ! 

"I  strove  with  an  aching  heart  to  turn 

The  blast  of  the  storm  on  me ; 
Ah !  could  I  but  yield  up  my  life  for  theirs, 
How  happy  and  glad  I'd  be ! 


208  GARLAND    OF    SONG 


But  pity  and  pleadings  and  loving  were  vain  ; 

Leafless  arms  are  outstretched  to  the  skies, 
And  for  every  deep  scar  that  they  carry,  its  mate 

Deep  down  in  my  heart  depths  lies." 


And  I  thought,  as  I  turned  from  the  sighing  Pine, 
That  the  sharpest  of  pangs  we  know 

Is  the  grief  that  comes  when  we  helpless  gaze 
On  a  loved  one's  bitter  woe ! 


CALLING   THE   COWS. 

Along  the  narrow  grass-edged  path 

That  countless  feet  have  trod, 
She  dances  on,  the  merry  girl, 

With  steps  that  spurn  the  sod. 
The  birds  and  squirrels  flitting  past 

Are  not  so  full  of  glee, 
While  o'er  the  fields  in  ringing  tones, 

"Co  boss  !"     "Co  boss  !"  calls  she. 

The  slender  maid  with  life's  fair  dawn, 

Toward  noon  just  reaching  out, 
Trips  on  with  song  more  music-filled 

Than  schoolgirl's  merry  shout ; 
It  tells  of  airy  castles  built 

With  hope  and  love  as  stones, 
While  o'er  the  fields,  "Co  boss!  Co  boss!" 

Rings  out  in  dulcet  tones ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  209 

The  woman,  bent  with  toil  and  years, 

Goes  slowly  o'er  the  way ; 
The  castles  reared  in  early  youth 

Have  crumbled  into  clay. 
The  weariness  that's  in  her  heart, 

Is  echoed  in  her  tone : — 
"Co  boss !     Co  boss  !"     The  quavering  cry 

Dies  into  sighing  moan. 

Still  Mother  Nature's  feast  is  spread, 

Let  hearts  be  sad  or  gay ! 
Her  songs  re-echo  whether  gloom 

Or  joy  lie  on  our  way ! 
And  when  the  weary  woman-heart 

Is  resting  'neath  the  sod, 
Some  young,  glad  voice  will  call  "Co  boss !" 

O'er  path  where  once  she  trod. 


FATHER  DAMIEN. 

O  sing  your  requiems,  waves  and  winds, 

On  far  off  tropic  shore! 
O  mourn  the  Soldier  of  the  Cross, 

Arms  stacked  forevermore ! 
The  weapons  forged  in  Love's  fierce  flame 

Of  sacrifice  untold ! 
And  shining  with  the  glittering  gems 

Of   abnegation's   gold ! 

14 


210  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Dear  father,  'twas  a  lonely  way, 

Where  waves  moaned  on  the  shore, 
While  with  their  wailings   rose  the  cry 

Of   suffering  evermore. 
Aye,  lonely  as  the  world  defines, 

The  loneliness  of  soul, 
But  well  we  know  the  angels  walked 

Beside  thee   to   the   goal ! 

Treading  within  the  Savior's  steps, 

"And  doing  all  things  well ;" 
Letting  the  light  of  Christian  Hope 

Shine  through  Despair's  dark  cell, 
So  like  thy  Master,  hands  upraised 

To  serve  and  heal  and  bless, 
While  to  His  little  ones  you  gave 

The  Father's  pure  caress. 

Within   that   far-off   tropic   isle 

The   twilight   splendor   glows 
In  dazzling  hues  for  one  brief  space, 

And  then  as  swiftly  goes ; 
So  thou  when  life  was   radiant  with 

Thy  splendid  deeds  of  light, 
Saw  deepening  shadows  gather  round 

And  fold  thee  in  Death's  night. 

But  o'er  the  gloom  of  wind-swept  grave, 

A  star  of  beauty  beams, 
And  through  its  rays,  to  all  the  world, 

Thy  martyr's  halo  gleams. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  211 

While  man  remembers  glorious  deeds, 

Thy  name  shall  live  in  light, 
For  never   Soldier  of  the  Cross 

Died  in  a  nobler  fight! 

O   sigh   your  requiems,  ocean   winds, 

Above  the  martyred  one! 
But  clearer    than   your  wailing    rings 

The  Master's  sweet  "Well  done!" 
No   grander,   purer,   nobler   soul 

E'er  waged   the   war  of   God. 
Sleep  on,  O  soldier  of  the  Cross, 

Beneath  the  sea-girt  sod! 


CHRIST  REIGNS ! 

In  St.  Vincent's  Church,  Chicago,  as  the  midnight  hour 
ushered  in  the  century,  the  Sacred  Host  was  enthroned  on  the 
altar,  and  above  it  electricity  wrote  in  letters  of  light :  "Christ 
Reigns." 

O  glorious  message,  flashing  forth 

Above  the  Host  of  white ! 
O  grandest  truth  in  fiery  lines 

Beside  the  God  of  might ! 

Aye,  Babe  Divine  of  Bethlehem's  Crib! 

The  Child  of  Nazareth's  ways ! 
The  Man-God  dying  on  the  Cross ! 

Thy  standard  'tis  we  raise ! 

The  Century  dawns  with  all  its  hopes, 
Its  joys  and  trembling  fears, 


212  GARLAND     OF    SONG 

Its  promises  of  future  good, 
Mayhap  its  sin  and  tears ! 

Yet  He  who  holds  the  endless  years 

Within  his  grasp  to-day, 
Will  from  the  evil  bring  the  good 

And  wipe  the  tears  away ! 

Christ  Reigns !    O  glorious,  blissful  truth, 
Flashed  out  above  the  shrine ! 

Christ  Reigns !  O  may  His  "Kingdom  come" 
Within  thy  heart  and  mine ! 


SISTER    ST.    GERTRUDE. 

"Our  Lord  has  need  of  this  flow'ret  fair," 

The   Christmas  Angels  said. 
The  stem  was  snapped ;  the  lily  white 
In  all  its  bloom  lay  dead. 

O  spouse  of  Jesus,  lying  there, 

God's  peace  upon  thy  brow, 
How  strange  it  seems  to  chant  o'er  thee 

The  Misereres  now ! 

More  fitting  far  'twould  be  to  let 

The  Glorias  loudly  ring, 
Or  the  Laudate's  tones  of  praise 

Their  flight  above  to  wing. 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  213 

For  when  youth's  roseate  rays  of  dawn 

Streamed  o'er  life's  flowery  way, 
When  "Home"  outstretched  its  yearning  arms 

And  pleading,  bade  thee  stay, 

Thou  turned  away;  thine  ears  attuned 

To    Heaven's    rapturing  strain, 
Thine  eager  eyes  fixed  far  beyond 

Where  walked  the  virgin  train. 

And  now  the  Christmas  anthems  ring, 

The  Babe  has  claimed  His  own, 
The  lily  soul  is  with  the  Lamb 

Forever  'round  the  throne. 

O  weeping  ones,  all  bowed  in  grief 

Above  your  broken  flower! 
Our  tears   for  you   who  drink  to-day 

The  cup  of  Calvary's  hour ! 

But  He,  the  Babe  Divine,  who  threw 

The  gloom  across  your  ways, 
Will  send  the  sunshine  of  His  love 

To  light  the  darkened  days. 

O  give  to  Him  the  "Mary"  loved 

Who  "chose  the  better  part !" 
And  let  the  peace  from  Bethlehem's  Crib 

Steal  to  each  sorrowing  heart! 


214  GARLAND     OF    SONG 


CHIMES  FROM  THE  PAST. 

I  list  to  the  bells  in  the  distance, 

To  the  chirrup  of  birds  in  the  trees, 
To  the  swaying  and  sighing  of  branches, 

That  are  wooed  by  the  evening  breeze ! 
The  clouds  in  their  snowy  beauty 

Sail  over  an  azure  sea, 
And  I  revel  in  all  the  sweetness, 

So  lavishly  scattered  for  me  ! 

The  day  with  its  treasures  of  pleasure, 

Its  laughter  and  merry  jest, 
Is  sailing  in  ships  that  are  golden, 

Away  to  the  far-off  West ! 
And  I  waft  it  a  good-bye  greeting, 

And  I'm  sorry  to  see  it  go, 
But  I  turn  to  the  restful  evening, 

With  a  heart  that  is  all  aglow ! 

How  many  an  airy  castle 

We  rear  in  those  sunset  hours ! 
What  matter  it  if  it  perish 

Like  fairest  of  fragile  flowers ! 
We  taste  in  those  fairy  mansions 

The  rarest  of  earthly  joy, 
And  forget,  while  Fancy  builds  them, 

That  the  gold  has  aught  of  alloy! 

Like  vesper  bells  in  a  village 
That  nestles  among  the  hills  ! 

Like  sweetest  of  silvery  music 

That  comes  from  the  rippling  rills ! 


GARLAND     OF    SONG  215 


Like  soft,  calm  light  from  the  moonbeams, 
Like  all  that  is  pure  and  clear, 

Are  the  thoughts  that  the  evening  bringeth 
To  the  heart  that  its  song  can  hear ! 

0  could  I  but  sing  of  the  rapture 
The  hour  of  the  twilight  e'er  brings ! 

But  only  the  faintest  of  echoes 

Respond  to  the  touch  of  the  strings ! 

1  wonder  when  Life's  ship  is  sailing 

Far  off  to  the  sunset  shore, 
Will  the  same  sweet  peace  be  my  portion, 
My  own  forevermore. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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